#isn't the wonder of being alive enough for you?

[syndrossi]

Still thinking about AU where the twins are Aamon's kids and Daemon's age. As much as I'd love to see Aamon alive, it would be interesting to see a "there are 4 young adults left of the ruling family" scenario. Because. They really don't have any of the older Targaryens left around to help. Vaegon and Viserra (if they're alive) aren't around, maybe Alysanna if she survived Jaehaerys? Sure, Jaehaerys himself sat on the throne at a young age, but 1) he had at least a mother as who ruled as regent 2) he didn't have 3 relatives in charge, one of whom (Daemon) could throw something out at any moment.

I'm also wondering where Otto is in this AU. Was he also the hand in the later years of Jaehaerys? Or was it Jon/Baelon? What happens to him after the king dies? It's clear Jon won't trust him, but you have to give Otto credit - he ruled pretty effectively while Viserys 1 was feasting, so throwing out a useful man would be wasteful. Will Otto try to turn Jon against Daemon like he did in canon? Daemon would be furious, I can see how he would adore his cousin he grew up with together. Will he try to bring Jon and Alicent closer together in the future? Or switch to Rhaegar?

If they're around Daemon's age, they'd be 22 when Jaehaerys dies at last, which isn't all that young by ASOIAF standards, honestly. Even if they're a few years younger, 20 would be considered more than mature enough to reign. Viserys would be the eldest, at 26.

Jon's quite savvy, especially with Rhaegar's aid (I think I have them as Aerion = Jon, Valerion = Rhaegar for this AU), so he likely chooses his council and advisors in such a way to maximize/consolidate support. Award Daemon with a position that keeps him happy and demonstrates trust; if need be, grant him his desired annulment from Rhea and give him leave to seek a match to a highborn woman of his choice. He makes Rhaegar his Hand, finds a position that is suitable for Viserys. Corlys is definitely made master of ships if he isn't already, because that's their brother-in-law.

From there, it's a matter of filling other positions with capable men from houses whose favor it would benefit them to court.

I am not sure what Jon decides to do with Otto. Given the twins' age when Baelon dies (20), I could see Jaehaerys being persuaded to let him or Rhaegar serve as Hand rather than Otto.

("Fun" fact: I got Baelon's dates as Hand wrong in Regnal. Apparently Jaehaerys waited until 100 AC to name Baelon Hand, meaning he served in that office for all of one year before his death! WTF Jaehaerys? Especially considering that the man Baelon replaced was also serving as Kingsguard at the time! We'll say that Regnal!Jaehaerys came to his senses and made Baelon his Hand a few years after Aemon's death.)

The thing about Otto is that his talent and ambition make him dangerous. If Daemon's marriage to Rhea is annulled, perhaps he goes after Daemon with Alicent instead? Depending on if Jon or Rhaegar have any heirs from their own marriages yet, he's not that far down the line of succession and Aemma doesn't seem like she's going to be having a successful childbirth anytime soon.

Obviously if one or both of the twins are not yet married, he'd be jumping all over that. One thing I could see is Jon perhaps downplaying Otto's role in the Dance too much, since it was one of scheming rather than a military one. I do know that he's not going to be very successful turning Jon or Rhaegar against beloved family members (of which Daemon certainly qualifies). Their biggest challenge with Daemon will finding the appropriate Daemon-enrichment. I could see them approving a Stepstones war that is properly funded and supported with dragons, so that Daemon gets to live his mini-Conquest dreams. And then, a bit like Viserys, they hope he has a kid or two that can help him settle down.

[apostate-in-an-alcove]

To be brutally honest, I don't particularly care what the meaning or purpose of life is and I don't understand people who spend their whole life trying to find that answer.

[sweetlullabyebye]

Charles' thing is that he wants to feel alive and that's part of the reason why he decided to never move on to the afterlife right? Meanwhile Edwin thinks Charles will move on and that he'll be alone again because 'he isn't good with people'.

But then when the Night Nurse shows up a second time Charles is ready to go wherever -including Hell- as long as Edwin shouldn't have to go back there, meanwhile Edwin refuses that they be split up, and both are okay with being sent together to the Lost and Found Department to be sorted out later as long as they're together-

[reanimatedgh0ul]

trying to nail down eli's character rn (aka my fanon version of danielle)

so here are some characters i can see her taking after

[on-the-clear-blue]

Original idea coming from @the-witchhunter and then added on to by many others.

Dead Man's Diner

---

Danny was tired okay? It may very well be his own damn fault but he can't keep waking up during daylight hours, while yes, he can fully be up and sitting at a desk, the likelihood of him waking up getting shouted at by his boss for sleeping on the job was astounding.

So at 19 years old, freshly jobless, Danny said Fuck it and moved away from Amity Park, Valarie was more than willing to handle the few ghosts that still came through the portal since he became the King.

You might be wondering, why isn't Danny filthy rich and rolling in it as the ghost king? Two words, the Observants.

Those flouting eye bastards had moved in and said that unless he was the king full time, he was unable to access the vaults of the Infinite Realms.

So once again, 19, freshly jobless and wanting to get out of Gotham? Danny was very lucky to have friends that love him far to much, Sam and Tucker both pitched in to move him out to where they had chosen to do collage.

*Gotham* oh Sam was in love with the place, the architecture, the people, (and maybe a certain green supervillian that was determined to make the city better) and Tucker was obsessing over being in the same city as Wayne Enterprises, trying his best to get into their internship program by his own merit rather than just hacking himself into it.

And Danny? He was loving it for a slightly different reason.

While the death rate was unfortunately high in Gotham, that also meant that the amount of passive ectoplasim generated by the deaths was massive, it was almost as rich as back in Amity Park with the portal into the ghost zone!

(Oh and the many job opportunities but Danny was a little less worried about that.)

---

Letting out a sigh, Danny scrubbed at his eyes as he leaned back into his chair, another job he had to turn down due to it being shady as all get out.

4 hours and he was getting payed 200 bucks? Major criminal vibes from that...

Taking a moment to get himself balanced, Danny leaned back and looked to the clunky laptop that Tucker had given him, it was modified to hell and back, so it still ran quickly, but it sure as he'll wasn't pretty.

Clicking on yet another job listing, Danny paused as he felt a shiver run down his spine, and a blue mist pass through his lips, blinking, he twisted around to look at the spare room of Sam's apartment, Ghosts tend not to get close enough to him to trigger the ghost sense in Gotham...

Seeing nothing, Danny turned back to his laptop only to find a piece of paper stuck to the screen with tape, freezing at first, the dark haired man sighed deeply, peeling it off he held it close as he read it.

[Help wanted at Big C's Dinner! Looking for a night cook that knows their way around a kitchen!]

There was a few more lines that Danny's eyes skimmed over, picking up the location that it was at, it even had a decent pay, but he paid more attention to the scribbled on note at the bottom of it.

[Daniel, head to this place at 12 am tonight. While the Observants said that you may not touch a single coin in your vaults, they side nothing of your properties.]

---

So Danny knows how to handle himself, he has fought many, many people and still came out half alive, but even he felt a little on edge coming down to the railroad tracts in Gotham, because apparently that was were Big C's dinner was at...which he apparently owned? Clockwork works in mysterious ways that Danny was so done trying to figure out.

Stepping up to a bit of abandoned tract, he blinked a few times at the site of Big C's.

It was a decent sized Dinning Car, with a ramp that attached itself to a proper street, it had peeling green paint and dirty white accents with charming rusted steel connecting it to the tracts, the only thing new looking on it was a bit banner stretched across it, stating the name "BIG C'S ALL DAY EVERY DAY BREAKFAST CART! OPEN 24/7!"

The windows were close off by tinted yellow blinds, but he could still see light coming through them. Stepping up the ramp Danny felt the cart under him shudder and something inside of him fluttered, and by the time he was opening the door he could feel the reason why.

The very cart was *alive*, taking a quick breath, Danny could practically taste the energy from it, there was a buzzing undercurrent of excitement that rung through the whole cart.

A little unprepared for his, Danny just smiled warily, "Uhh, hey there? Anyone around?" In response to his words the cart shuddered, the blinds dancing up and down and he could hear the squeel of the wheels.

"O-okay then, um my name is Danny Fenton...Clockwork sent me?" There was another flapingnof the blinds, and the small wooden flap that let people into the back lifted up suddenly before clacking down loudly.

Taking a steadying breath, Danny slipped through the bar and into the back.

It was surprisingly clean and orderly, the stove and fryer looked over than his parents but well maintained, the flat top was perfectly scrubbed and was already heating up.

As Danny looked around, he felt a familiar shiver run down his spine, looking around once more, Danny fell into a fighting position as he spotted the figure of a familiar foe

"Lunch Lady? Aren't you a little far from home? What did your order of fist not come in?" The bright rings of light around Danny's waist swirled into life as he went into his ghost form.

He got a thrilling grin from the older apparition, but she only crossed her arms, "While we can tumble later little King, Lord Clockwork sent me personally, said you need a bit of help learning how to cook? And ain't nobody better slinging food than me, dead or alive!"

---

Down in the dripping depths of the cave system deep under Gotham, one Bruce Wayne, still in his Batsuit sat in front of the Bat Computer, eyes glaring at a map of Gotham.

He had been tracking a strange energy pattern that made its way through Gotham, he had first thought it was some sort of layline, but the more that he tracked it the more he realized it was closer to watching a person's walking patterns, sometimes following roads, and sometimes crisscrossing through streets and alleyways.

But tonight that power signal tripled in size, off-putting energy that Bruce hadn't seen it done before, tapping the com on his ear, he spoke clearly "Nightwing, take Red Robin and investigate the coordinates I am sending the both of you, observe it, I just got a massive spike in an energy at that location."

There was silence for a moment before the com crackled and his sons responded "Got it B! Me and RR needed a little time together huh Babybird?"

There was a quiet hum from Tim, before the teen spoke "On route Batman, after this I am heading in, we have a meeting with a suspect in the morning B, Vlad Masters has been poking around Gotham."

[autistichalsin]

Analysis of each character's final words in the new Dark Urge evil ending

If you are romanced to a character, you have the option, when taking the new version of the Sins of the Father ending, to kill your partner in front of the others in your party, killing them with one last kiss. They then give their last words and pass away. I love each and every one and feel they are incredible characterization moments.

So let's break these down!

Lae'zel:

I... I am glad it was you. No other blade would have sufficed.

This is something that hammers home that, Vlaakith or no, Lae'zel deeply believes in all the ideals of a Githyanki. Life is a privilege for the strong, and death is the price of weakness. Further, if romanced, Lae'zel will affectionately call you "the source of my bruises" many times. If she has to die, if she has finally found the one person stronger than herself, then she is "satisfied" that it is you- who she both loved and admired. The only one she would ever consider worthy of besting her.

Karlach:

Fuck you.

Short, simple, and to the point, just the way Karlach does everything else. She's already gone through all her stages of grief with her engine- well, almost all of them. Anger still remains. She burns hot until the end.

Wyll:

I... I forgive you.

This isn't just Wyll being a good guy. This is heartbreak, and guilt. Guilt for not saving you from Bhaal's influence when he was so sure he had. Heartbreak that after he gave his literal soul to save as many people as he could, he couldn't save you- and couldn't save others from you, either. All he sacrificed, negated in an instant by the person he loved and trusted most. Of all the characters here, Wyll (tied with Halsin) sounds the most obviously broken, and it's easy to see why, given that he is self-sacrificing to a fault.

There was a set of scenes datamined from the game, where at the Morphic Pool, the Netherbrain would have taunted the players, causing them to hallucinate things related to their fears and insecurities. Wyll's would have been a vision of himself talking about how he was never a hero, how the Blade of Frontiers was a farce all along. One can't help but think about that scene here, wondering just how much blame, bordering on self-loathing, he might feel here.

Dark Justiciar Shadowheart:

I... I'm coming to you, Lady Shar.

Another short and simple one. By becoming a Dark Justiciar, Shadowheart has fully embraced the nihilism of Shar's teachings. Why be saddened or angry at her own death when this is just what she's embraced with all her sacrifices?

(Sidenote: this does also answer a question I had, namely, what was going to happen to everyone Durge kills. Thankfully it seems they aren't actually going to be sacrificed to him as such, and will indeed end up in the realm of their deities. This makes Bhaal's plan even DUMBER, because deities in DND lore need worshippers to have enough power to exist. Killing everyone at once just guarantees that soon after Durge dies as the last person alive, so too will Bhaal fade from existence.)

Selunite Shadowheart:

I... I thought we were going to save each other...

This Shadowheart rejected everything she knew. She was scared to defy her goddess, but worked up the courage- thanks to you. She thought you would have a new life together. She believed in you. She thought she would get to return the favor, and help you turn the page on Bhaal, too.

She's not just heartbroken for herself; she's heartbroken for you, too. Heartbroken at the life you denied both her and yourself.

Gale:

You made me want to live...

From the moment the orb entered Gale's chest, he knew he was at risk of dying. Then Mystra all but marked him as a dead man walking. But despite that, he finds love with you- and for the first time thinks maybe there is a purpose for him beyond Mystra. That he isn't more useful to the world dead. More than that, he wants to live to be with you, to enjoy your company and companionship. And then you kill him, and do the one thing WORSE than what would have happened if he'd never been pulled from that rock.

It almost would have been kinder to just hack his hand off the first time you met him, though Gale may or may not agree.

Spawn Astarion:

I should have killed you when I had the chance...

The angriest, most bitter response out of all the romanced companions, a step beyond Karlach's "fuck you." This is beyond "fuck you" and even beyond "I hate you." It's "I regret every moment I spent with you." You made him believe he could have better. That he could recover from what Cazador did. You even convinced him to spare the 7,000 spawn and that he could be something better than Cazador.

And now you reveal it was all a lie. Astarion is probably thinking that you talked him out of completing the ritual solely so he'd be easier to kill right here and now. How many regrets are flashing through his mind, how many moments where he wonders if things could have been different if only he'd done this or that, even aside from killing you?

All he wanted was to live as a free person. And then the first time he thinks he has that at last, he loses it as the world ends.

Ascended Astarion:

No... no, this can't be... I can't- you can't- no...

In contrast to spawn Astarion, ascended isn't angry, because he doesn't have the clarity, the ability to process what's happening. Spawn Astarion could tell he'd been betrayed.

But Ascended? Ascended, who went through so much to become one of the most powerful beings in the world, only to STILL lose without fanfare? And by you, his own spawn who he thought he had under his control? It isn't betrayal, because he is bluescreening; he can't comprehend what happened or how or why. How could he have been killed, and by you of all people? Was all he went through killing Cazador really for nothing? How could it be when he was supposed to be the most powerful? Was power actually meaningless all along?

He doesn't say anything of substance because he can't understand what's happening here.

Halsin:

Thaniel... goodbye...

Halsin is the oldest of all the companions. He's experienced the most loss of anyone; his birth family, his fellow Druids, and, for a time, Thaniel. He has had more than enough time to contemplate his own mortality, because he's already lived multiple lifetimes.

So here, two things are happening. One, he isn't expressing anger or betrayal at his murder- because he is more than wise enough, and humble enough, to understand that there are worse things than what has been done to himself. Instead of himself, he is thinking of the world he's leaving behind that is about to fall- and most of all, of his most important person, the one who gave him a purpose, who was there when no one else was, who he failed once and only just got back. The closest thing to a child he'll ever have. In his last moments, instead of himself, Halsin is thinking of those he loves.

And second, it's an almost deliberate snubbing of Durge. He willingly walked into that kiss, knowing full well it would be the last thing he ever did. He gave you his death, he pleaded with his own god to forgive you and him both. He gave you everything he felt he owed you, and no more- no begging or sobbing. Instead, he comes as close as he ever gets to selfishness, and spends his last moments thinking about the thing that makes him the happiest- which could have been you, in another life, if you hadn't done this.

Minthara:

No... we were meant to do this together...

Heartbreak, disbelief, and betrayal. You spent so many nights planning this out. She had been cast aside by her people, her goddess, and she was going to get the last laugh. She was going to crush them personally under her heel and prove she was the best (or second best, behind you) of all of them. She's devastated she won't get to help you torture all those souls and take what she feels was owed to her. But interestingly enough... no anger. Probably because it was overshadowed by the sheer heartbreak, but also a sign that even in those moments, she still admires you for your ruthlessness.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Meeting Yamazaki Shingen for the First Time: Sleepless Nights

G/N. 1.7k strangers to~. Soft. Arranged marriage trope. Masterlists

Disappointing, you've heard people say about you. Disobedient.

Troublemaker, should be seen and not heard, your mother chides you while your father just looks on with resentment, as if he couldn't believe they could have created such an insolent child.

In exchange for being the black sheep of your family, you're offered, kicking and screaming, to Yamazaki Shingen. Trading your life and freedom to elevate your family's name and standing.

If you can't be a filial offspring and make your parents proud, the least you can be is useful.

To everyone's surprise, the Yamazaki clan accepts.

.

.

With relief, you realise there isn't going to be a wedding night.

This isn’t a marriage. You're only one of many. No-one has been deemed worthy enough to sit by Shingen's side as the head of the family. This doesn't bother you.

Nor the fact that you have not seen the man you have been allegedly sold off to and you quietly count your blessings.

Instead, you're treated as an extra pair of hands, almost a servant. Spending your days helping out around the household with any chores and errands as they see fit. It's hard, gruelling work.

You collapse every night in your futon out of exhaustion and sleep takes no time at all.

It's still a better life than you had before.

.

.

Though the routine might be growing familiar, it's still a stranger's home and a strange room and a strange futon that you're lying on.

Tonight, the strangeness of your situation overwhelms.

You miss your old room, the softness of your old pillow on your skin, the smell of your own belongings.

Tonight, sleep is nowhere to be found.

.

.

You're greeted by a silhouette sitting in the courtyard.

Outlined by the moonlight, size more monster than human. Although in any other circumstances you might feel fear, this is the Yamazaki home, you think. No-one, not even monsters, would dare trespass.

You find your own space to sit in. You wonder if he even knows you're here or if this is two strangers letting the silence grow comfortable between them.

"Who are you?" comes his voice, and the peace breaks. It's low, almost a growl.

It takes you a moment to realise you didn't dream it and you tell him your name.

"I can't sleep." you add and you hear a sharp exhale of amusement.

He doesn't volunteer any information about himself and you don't ask.

Nevertheless, it's a kindred spirit, you decide. Someone else suffering from sleep evading them.

He continues to sit, still as a rock, and you join him. Breath deepening and eyelids growing heavier by the second. Your head drops forward, jolting you awake and you take your leave.

.

.

In the morning and for several weeks after, you're not sure if the man had been conjured up by your imagination.

If in your sleep-induced haze, your mind created someone you could relate to, no matter how trivial the bond.

You search but don't see anyone in the Yamazaki family that could look like him.

You almost mistake Shintaro for him, the Vice President who has been courteous if a little cold, except in your blurred memories you think the stranger has wild long hair.

.

.

Over time, you forget about him. Someone that could either be a figment of your imagination or as real as the floor you’re currently scrubbing.

You let your daily tasks wash over you. Following instructions without argument and keeping to yourself.

Your hands grow calloused and energy drains.

A state of overtiredness finally overwhelms you.

Where you can feel the fatigue deep in your bones, your body hovering in a state between conscious and unconscious, moving in a haze, yet your mind is alive and wired and sleep won't take no matter how much you toss and turn.

.

.

He’s there again.

But as the days grow, the nights are no longer as dark as it was and you can make out more of his features.

Your brain didn’t deceive you. His form is as large as you remembered, maybe larger. A good few heads taller than you and powerfully muscled. Hair long, like a sheet of darkness past his shoulders. 

“Evening,” you say as a way of greeting, your voice carrying in the quiet night breeze. His head snaps to yours, though you can’t make out his face.

You feel his gaze on you as you sit, folding your legs under you.

You close your eyes, enjoying the silence. Feeling the warm air on your skin and caressing your hair. No longer as frigid or cool as it was when you first stepped foot into the Yamazaki clan.

“Another sleepless night,” he says. You don’t know whether it’s a question for you or a confession of sorts for him.

In the end, you echo him, agreeing with the sentiment. “Another sleepless night.”

.

.

Curiosity keeps you awake rather than exhaustion or anxiety or insomnia the next night, wondering if the man is still there sitting like a lonely statue.

Your mind leads you fully this time. 

At dusk, you carefully slide the door behind you as your feet pad onto the soft grass, brain and body awake.

He’s there. In the same spot, in the same position.

It’s even lighter tonight, and you can see his features. His black eyes, the startling white irises, the emptiness in his gaze.

You do as you have done before, sitting down a few metres away. 

“Why are you here?” he asks, tone inquisitive. Your footsteps and movement have given you away. You’re much more alert, less sluggish, no longer moving as if in a dream state and he has noticed.

“I wondered if you were here every night.” You tell him, opting for honesty.

The silence stretches as you wait for his answer. Eventually you hear-

“Yes.”

.

.

The twilight meetings become routine. Only a handful of words are exchanged on a given night, if any at all.

Yet you have come to think of him as the guardian of your slumber. Some nights you drift off as soon as your head hits your pillow, and when morning comes, you feel a pang of guilt for not joining your companion.

He never comments on it, though you think his eyes are a little warmer whenever he sees you again.

.

.

At the change of seasons, when the day grows hot and sticky, you are summoned to Yamazaki Shingen’s quarters.

You had allowed yourself to forget that you are only in this household to be used for breeding potential, no better than livestock. 

Disregarded that the dowry the Yamazaki clan paid for you was too high a price for a simple servant and became so accustomed to your daily chores, pretended this day would never come.

At sundown, the head housekeeper, a crotchety old woman guides you to your doom.

You would have considered escaping if she wasn’t flanked by bodyguards, two men with matching severe expressions. You would have considered asking for help if your only companion, the person you have sort of befriended, was nowhere to be found in the courtyard.

“Master Shingen has been dissatisfied. He hasn’t been with anyone in months,” the housekeeper says, subdued and not breaking pace. She gives you a look as if that is your problem to solve. “The elders are getting worried.”

Good, you want to snap back. Let them be worried. Let this stupid clan die off.

Just as you’re about to say something you would no doubt regret, she stops abruptly in front of an oversized door. You almost careen into the back of her but the bodyguard’s hands shoot out and steady you.

“I’m fine,” you hiss, shoving their hands off you.

“Now in you go,” she rolls her eyes at your outburst, opening the door and pushing you in with her talons, “And do behave.”

.

.

Shit shit shit.

The room is almost pitch black, only illuminated by a sliver of moonlight through the windows.

Adrenaline courses through your body and you desperately will your eyes to adjust to the darkness, even as they dart around fruitlessly, looking for a weapon, for anything-

When you sense another presence in the room with you and you stop moving.

“What are you doing?” comes his voice.

Your breath hitches. 

It’s one that you have only heard sparingly but have nevertheless looked forward to hearing again. A figure you have sought out night after night.

“Is-Is that you?” 

A chuckle from the shadows. “Yes.”

Could this really be him? “Y-Yamazaki Shingen?” You stammer, a literal shot in the dark. 

“Yes,” he replies and you feel your legs almost buckle out beneath you. “Come closer.”

Incredulous at this twist of fate, you carefully make your way towards the centre of the room. Your eyes, at long last, are able to pick out the silhouette sitting on the bed, and that there is a bed. 

Does he expect... Does he want you to-?

“No,” he cuts in like he’s able to read your thoughts. “I want your company. Like you did mine.”

His white irises are practically glowing, boring into you.

“Another sleepless night?” you ask tentatively. Groping for an olive branch, for that connection.

“Another sleepless night,” Shingen agrees, and everything finally falls into place.

.

.

Like all those nights before, Shingen is a man of few words. He observes you as you try to find comfort in his space, in a room completely unfamiliar to you.

He finds a strange companionship, ease in your presence. You don’t ask for anything from him, and in return, he doesn’t ask for anything from you.

Except, well - this.

And only this. He has no intentions of forcing what you do not want to give.

As you lay your head down next to his, a small smile of relief on your face that things have surprisingly worked out, Shingen, to his own surprise finds that he’s smiling back.

For the first time in a long time, he falls asleep in his own bed. 

He falls asleep easily tonight and every night thereafter - to the sound of your breathing, and the warmth of your body next to his.

[ba9go]

Hey!!! I was wondering if you could write about reader still having really bad nightmares of katsuki’s death? With some comfort from him and whatnot. Maybe when he finally wakes up again too? Completely up to you! 🫶

(I keep seeing it on my fyp on tiktok and it has me sobbing.)

having nightmares about losing katsuki (again)

WARNING: REFERENCES TO MAJOR SPOILERS, EXPLICIT MENTION OF CHARACTER DEATH UNDER THE CUT

hurt/comfort; reader has really bad nightmares about losing katsuki again. fem reader (katsuki calls u his strong girl once at the very end!)

ever since katsuki woke up, you've been having the same nightmare for weeks.

the first time it happened, you woke up gasping for air, chest tight and heart pounding. your eyes were wide open, but you could barely see anything in the pitch black darkness. still, you whipped your head to the side, and you sigh quietly.

you could barely make out the head of blonde hair next to you. though you could barely see katsuki, you could definitely feel katsuki. his warm body was pressed up against yours. one strong arm wrapped around your waist, and the other tucked under your neck.

katsuki's here.

katsuki stirs slightly from your sudden jostling, and you can barely make out the frown that creases between his brows. you don't notice it but you hold your breath until his face relaxes again and he falls back into his peaceful slumber.

it took you a while to fall back asleep, and you didn't tell katsuki about your nightmare when you both woke up the next morning.

the nightmares persisted for weeks. it sucked, but at least it wasn't nearly as bad as when katsuki had actually been dead. you could hardly sleep during that period, spending most of your nights crying and sobbing instead. any wink of sleep you got was probably from you blacking out of sheer exhaustion.

you told yourself that it wasn't that bad. after all, katsuki's here and alive, isn't he? surely, the nightmares would go away.

but they didn't. it wasn't every night that you had nightmares, it wasn't even the same nightmare most of the time. sometimes, you'd dream of fighting shigaraki alongside katsuki until katsuki puts his own life on the line to save yourself, and you'd wake up broken and guilt-ridden. sometimes, you'd dream of not being next to katsuki in his final moments.

but one thing was constant in all of your nightmares — katsuki didn't wake up.

thankfully, katsuki doesn't seem to catch on to your nightly afflictions. he stirs on some nights where you wake up crying, but you've always managed to stifle your sobs just enough to make sure he wouldn't actually wake up.

katsuki does, however, notice your puffy, red eyes and stuffy nose the mornings after.

"allergies, huh?" katsuki huffed, grabbing your hand and placing a couple of pills on your palm.

"oh, um, yeah." you don't dare to meet katsuki's gaze. you feel like you'd crack instantly and tell him about everything. "allergies."

at some point, the nightmares stopped being just nightmares. your thoughts and fears of losing katsuki started haunting even during the day.

katsuki finishes whipping up breakfast, placing your plates on the table. you do your best to smile and thank him for the food when he sits down in front of you, but your eyes end up drifting to the scar on his face.

katsuki cocks his head to the side, raising a hand to touch his scar lightly. "what, ya think m'ugly or somethin'?"

your eyes widen and you shake your head vehemently. "no, no, no, of course not! i would nev—"

"then what's botherin' ya?" katsuki pushes his plate slightly over to the side to let you know that he's fully invested in this conversation and will not resume breakfast until this conversation is had.

"what do you mean?" you try your luck anyway.

"m'not messin' around, y/n," katsuki frowns, but the look in his eyes tells you he's more worried than upset with you. "c'mon."

"i..." you started fidgeting with your hands under the table. "i've been having nightmares. about you, i mean." your eyes start to tear up as soon as you finish your sentence, and katsuki's getting up and by your side in an instant.

"darlin'," katsuki starts as he crouches down next to your chair. he takes your hands gently in his and starts tracing little circles with his thumbs. "for how long?"

"i dunno. been a few weeks."

"weeks?" katsuki echoes, and you wince. "baby, why didn't ya tell me?"

"didn't wanna burden you. i thought i was bein' silly. i mean, you're here. my brain's just—"

"scared, yeah?" katsuki finishes for you. he cups your cheek softly and looks at you so lovingly, so knowingly. of course katsuki would understand. tears streak down your cheeks, and you start to wonder why you ever thought you'd have to hide such a thing from him.

"yeah," you whispered, resting your cheek against his palm and squeezing your eyes shut. "m'sorry. i get it now. i won't hide things anymore."

katsuki wipes your tears away with calloused, soft hands, and you feel him lean in to press a soft kiss against your lips.

"that's my strong girl."

you break down completely, and katsuki holds you in steady arms and lets you cry into his shoulder, patting your head and whispering sweet nothings to you.

"m'not goin' anywhere, you got that? went through all of that to get back to you. m'here now. ya ain't gotta worry no more, alright? i've got you."

thank you so much for the request!! 🌷 i hope i did it justice hahdhwjds and sorry for the inactivity, life has been kinda hectic recently. i hope everyone's doing well :))

taglist (thank you for your support!!): @anicaaa67 @maddietries @nemisimp @an-na-bella @valeriyaaak @buggie07 @v3n7s @deimosjay @iguanahykhv @zaiban2989 @girls-overflower @notmeduhh @dreamcastgirl99 @yoyolovesdaiki @busdriver-move-that-ass @atashiboba @kathsuhki @armeenix @channnee @antiwhores @sukunasbottomlefteyeball @kenqki @vikizzy

[pricegouge]

Haul

Part Three MDNI

Master list | on ao3

slasher!trucker!141 x reader

series cw: dark fic. major character deaths, rape/noncon

chapter cw: noncon nudity, noncon touching, graphic depiction of injuries

It takes some test runs, but you eventually figure out your arm and shoulder are okay, though your collar bone likely isn't. You're lucky there - as far as you can feel, if it's fractured at all, it isn't compounded and you'd much rather heal a clavicle than a shoulder. Your cheekbone's fucked though; you can feel how it sinks into your face in a way it never has before, and blood pools in your sinus cavity, infects your saliva. It's likely going to need surgery, though you doubt your current ride is headed to a hospital. If you survive this, you'll end up with a pretty lopsided face, you figure.   If you survive this indeed, though.

You count distance in the taste of fabric on your tongue. As hours and miles pass, the cotton fades from heavy copper, to salt-lick piquant. The trailer heats with the rising sun, metal hull hotboxing you in. The tight space you're kept in is padded, probably for sound proofing though you're almost grateful for it, given how it prevents you from burning yourself on the corrugated siding.

It's hard to guess how much time passes. It feels like days, but the trailer does not go through a cooling cycle, nor do you die of dehydration, so you assume only a handful of hours pass. You spend them drifting in and out of consciousness, wishing you had enough wherewithal to try escaping. Unfortunately, with the heat and the dark comes exhaustion, and with the adrenaline crash comes intense pain so you do little more than catalog injuries when you can concentrate enough to do so. 

It takes some test runs, but you eventually figure out your arm and shoulder are okay, though your collar bone likely isn't. You're lucky there - as far as you can feel, if it's fractured at all, it isn't compounded and you'd much rather heal a clavicle than a shoulder. Your cheekbone's fucked though; you can feel how it sinks into your face in a way it never has before, and blood pools in your sinus cavity, infects your saliva. It's likely going to need surgery, though you doubt your current ride is headed to a hospital. If you survive this, you'll end up with a pretty lopsided face, you figure.  

If you survive this indeed, though.

Poor Ash. She may have been a pain in the ass, but no one deserves to go out like that. It's hard to stop the tears when you think of her but you try anyway, knowing full well that further inflaming your face isn't going to do anyone any good. You wonder why they kept you alive - why Ash didn't make the cut. Or, did, you suppose. Maybe they felt two victims would have been too difficult to deal with. Maybe they thought Ash, who was still able to get around quite well, would've been too much of a handful. 

Maybe you're trying to reason with hurricane season, as it were, find rationality where there was none. These men were motivated by something you'd never understand and perhaps it was best not to waste your efforts on it. Still, it's hard to move past Simon and Gaz's brief exchange. 

'For cap?'

'For all of us.'

The thought of being shared by them made your stomach turn, but the thought that there was another one - one they evidently often brought victims back home to - that was even worse.

'Captain,' you sneer. You can't help but picture some old geezer who couldn't pull his own victims anymore; real Texas Chainsaw shit. The boys would probably have to hold you down so he could wax poetic at you about what a good hauler he used to be, help him lift a tire iron so he could get his rocks off. It would be enough to make you laugh, if it didn't feel like the tire iron was already whaling on you.

Still, you suppose knowing your fate lies with an old man and his lackeys is better than the alternative; even in your current state you know a truck with a soundproofed false back generally spells human trafficking for anyone with the misfortune to find themselves stuck in one. Your prospect doesn't make you happy by any means, but you suppose the enemy you know is better. Even if that enemy is a group of known killers. 

It's not too long after the trailer starts to cool that the quality of the roads changes; long, smooth interstate giving way to potholed, winding highway. You grit your teeth each time you're jostled, groan every time you remember your jaw is actually your biggest source of pain. 

The passiveness with which you wonder about our whereabouts surprises you, but you're so exhausted you don't hold yourself too accountable for that. It's not until the truck slows to a stop that you sit up straighter, heartbeat hammering when the back up alarm confirms your fears that you have arrived at your destination. They let you sit for a while after. Long enough to get cold. There's the occasional sound of air brakes firing and you figure you're in some sort of lot. You try yelling for help a few times, but between the gag in your mouth and the soundproofing around you, your cries go unanswered.

At least you hope that's the reason. Otherwise this entire lot is filled with people who are in on this potential trafficking ring and Simon's words echo even more ominously in your ears. 

A quiet rattling form the end of the trailer tells you when they open the doors hours later. The truck engine roars to life seconds after, backing up the final few feet necessary to slam into the loading dock hard enough to make a gruff voice from within yell. 

It's unfamiliar, makes you steady yourself harder against the unknown quality of it. You figure this must be Cap, feel some small sense of satisfaction when the old, ragged voice matches what you'd pictured. You listen intently as pallets are cleared away, the loud clatter of the jack ringing even through your soundproofing. There's a lower murmur of laughter, the boys regaling the older man with a story you can't quite hear but can definitely infer. When the truck is fully unloaded, their heavy boots tread the short runway - Johnny's truck, then; you'd wondered who you'd been riding with -, their voices coming clearer as they draw near. 

"- banged up, but mostly from the crash," you hear Simon rumble. 

Johnny's next, his grating brogue echoing within the trailer, "Well, except her nose. We can thank Gaz for that one."

"She can thank herself for it," Gaz snarks back, and you would bite your tongue if you could. There's a beat of silence. You can almost feel the heavy gaze their silent captain turns on Gaz, prompting him to elaborate, "She ran. Not very fast. When I caught up, she tried bite me so I headbutted her a little."

"A little!?" Johnny cries, but is cut off by a gruff scoff.

"No way to treat our new guest, Kyle. Go on, make it up to her. Bring her out here."

You expect something dramatic, like a flood of blinding light or strong hands reaching in to yank you out. Instead, when the panel is pulled back, the indirect light from the building is mostly blocked by the row of bodies in front of you, and Gaz squats off to the side, body language friendly and inviting despite the coldness you can feel radiating from him. This man hates you, you can feel it. You remember how he wanted to kill you, wish you could tell him the feeling was mutual. Rather, you stare at him loathingly until he tires of your inaction, leans in to grab you by the zip ties that bind your feet and cuts them with a knife you didn't even see him pull. When he grabs your wrists and pulls, you resist as much as you're able but in the end you're no match and he pulls you from your hideaway with little more than a grunt of pain and annoyance when you elbow him in the ribs.

"Feisty one, is she?" the captain's low growl observes and you turn to the newcomer with fury in your eyes which stalls out when you take him in properly for the first time.

You're disappointed to discover he's not as old as you'd been expecting. Nowhere near, in fact. Mid forties most likely, early fifties at absolute most. And densely built enough to speak of a physicality far younger. None of them were small, but the captain still managed to look big among them - nearly as tall as Simon and just as broad as Johnny, though it looked a little leaner on him given his height. You think the worst part about him is how genial he looks. Like Gaz, he's a brand of handsome that comes with charm and approachability, and you wonder how long it will take for that facade to crack like Gaz's did. Worse, if it ever will.

Certainly, his voice is disarmingly sweet when he greets you, coos and calls you a dove. "Weren't lying were they, love? Did a number on the poor girl, Ghost."

Simon - Ghost? - grunts in acknowledgement, motions for you to step closer. You don't, of course, and get a sharp shove from Gaz which sends you stumbling toward the larger men, caught by a firm hand on your bad shoulder. You yelp, breath heaving behind your gag as Cap adjusts his grip, studying you by your hip instead as his eyes dart to Simon.

"Shoulder. Maybe collar bone. Happened when she flipped her car." When you flipped it. Right.

The older man tuts dissapprovingly. You try to swat his hands away but stumble without his support. He ignores you anyway, hand returning easily while the other reaches up to carefully grip the edge of the duct tape. "Can't be easy to breathe in there, can it doll? Not with that poor nose. Let's get this off, shall we? Easy," he soothes, voice a low pur. His task hurts like hell anyway, the sticky strip pulling your tender, swollen skin. He's gentle about it at least, murmuring sympathetically when you can't contain your whimpers. You don't judge yourself too harshly when a few tears slip through, but do very much so when his thumbing them away twists your stomach unexpectedly. 

It's just because you haven't seen tenderness all night, you reason, and resolve yourself against him, even as he removes the gag with utmost delicacy.

"That better, dove?" he asks when your breaths come quicker, deeper. It's like resurfacing after being submerged for too long, clarity coming to you like a cold breeze on soaked skin: this is a calm meant to put you at ease, but you will die here if you become complacent.

So when Cap tells you to call him John and asks what your name is, you spit at him, blood and mucus staining his shoes.

The boys go quiet, like a record scratch moment in an old b-movie. You stare up at John defiantly, waiting for him to scream at you, hit you - anything.

Instead, he just pulls a pocket knife from his pants, grabs your bindings when you go to flinch away. "You've had a long day, love," he starts as he slips the thin blade between your wrists. Your skin is tender there, rubbed raw from the tight binds. The cool blade feels sharp despite the care he takes to aim the edge away from you, never once letting it touch your skin. "You've had a long day, so I'm going to let you get away with that this time." When he pulls against the zip ties, they cut into your skin briefly before giving with a sharp twang. He pulls one of your wrists into his free hand, rubs the raw skin there with a calloused palm before taking the other wrist in his grasp and giving it the same treatment. "But the next time you misbehave will not go well for you. Understood?"

Of course, you don't listen. Fuck this guy for real, you figure. What's the worst he can do? Kill you?

This time, when you go to spit at him, he catches it against his palm, wide hand slapping over your mouth so hard you're breifly concerned for your good cheek. You gasp in shock and pain, nearly choking on your own spit. John steps closer, one boot knocking your foot wide to let himself between your legs. He's so close, if he moved his palm you'd be breathing the same air.

As it stands, you can barely breathe at all, nose flush against the fat side of his hand. His own breath fans across your skin, heavy and hot as a bellows. The quality of it is thick, humid. You're glad you can't smell anything because it feels like it reeks. 

"Simon, she give you a name?"

Ghost's uncomfortable movement is obvious in its silence. "Took to calling 'er Betty."

"Betty," John repeats, lips curling in amusement. "Like an old timey, proper little wife. That you, pet?" You wanna shake your head, fear for your sinus cavity if you do. "Not yet, eh? Gonna have to train you up first. Ease you into it." As if in demonstration, his body sags into your own, presence oppressive. "That's okay, pet. We'll start you off easy. Get you nice and clean, get you fed. In the morning, Kyle will help with your injuries and when you feel more like a proper lady, we'll try again, hm?"

You can't say anything, so you don't.

"But in the meantime, I can't let that kind of behavior go unchecked. Boys," he calls, eyes still boring into you. "Which one of you wants to help our guest clean up?"

The general din of excitement makes you flinch, eyes going wide as if pleading with the man who holds you so cruelly will do any good. When Johnny suggests they play rock paper scissors to decide who gets the honors, it's suddenly, belatedly clear to you that your murder would almost be a kindness. No, the worst thing this man could do for you would be to keep you. John sees it the moment you realize this. His grip eases, eyes softening in some gross perversion of kindness. He strokes your cheek soothingly when Simon goes out in the first round, smiles condescendingly when you flinch at Johnny's crow of victory. John tuts at you, but says no more as he turns you toward the Scot.

"All yours, Soap," he rumbles, pushing you not ungently toward the other man. "Spic and span, you hear?"

"Aye, sir. Thank ye, sir." Johnny's hands are much harsher than John's when he guides you from the trailer, giving you no sympathy when you flinch under the harsh warehouse lighting. You try to take stock of your surroundings as you're pulled along: spare, dusty racking; a forklift in need of repair. There are multiple loading docks, most of the viewports obscured by backed up trucks. One sits vacant and you briefly wonder if there's even more of these monsters waiting in the wings before you're pulled past a dank little office. You catch sight of outdated equipment - a rolodex, a CB - but it's the shadow boxes full of military honors that your eyes lock on the longest.

Of fucking course.

The door Johnny leads you out through is tucked off the side of the building. You stumble when he pulls you down through the door, feet unsteady where they kick up dirt. It's cold outside, colder than it had been in the dankness of the trailer. You can't help but shiver, bite your tongue as best you can when your companion takes that as invitation to draw you in close and rub a big, solid hand up your arm. 

"We'll have ye warmed up in no time, lass," he promises, but you can hear the amusement in his voice. This man murdered your friend with a crowbar and dragged her around like a slaughtered animal. You expect no kindness from him. 

He orders you to strip before turning to a small station built into the side of the warehouse. You do not strip, electing instead to take off running in the opposite direction, cursing as the gravel churns loudly under your shoes. Soap swears, his own heavy boots following at a pace you didn't think his burly body capable of. Your breaths burn your chest, each pull coming labored in your blind panic but you refuse to slow or relent, ignoring the flaming pain in your shoulder every time you swing your arm forward for propulsion.

Well, you ignore it until the ground comes tilting up to meet you, your body crushed beneath the considerable weight of one grunting, cursing Scot. You sob at the pain, or maybe the fear - hard to tell. When he levers himself off you, he wastes no time grabbing your ankle as he stands up, towering over you. If you were capable of stringing two thoughts together, you'd wonder if this was the last thing Ash saw: pale blue eyes gleaming in the low light, the cruelty that twists his face. Instead you wonder how likely your arm is to maintain full mobility after a night like this. 

Not very, you decide, sobbing in pain as he drags you back to the warehouse. He's muttering something above you, but you can't hear him over your own cries. When you kick at him futilely, he yanks on your ankle until you fear for it and you don't try it again. Not even when he gets you where he wants you, back under the wan outdoor lighting of the station he'd turned to before, crouching down next to you to rip at your shoelaces.

"Please, don't," you murmur instead, fear churning in your belly as he continues to strip you. You'd known it would come to this, known the moment the captain had mentioned something about a wife. It doesn't make it easier, doesn't make the prospect of the gritty sand underneath you any more comfortable, or your repulsion for the man above you any less sharp. "Please, please, please let me go. I could -."

"What? Suck me off?" Soap laughs harshly, "Think ah'm gonnae ge' tha' anyway, hen."

You were going to say keep your mouth shut, but you suppose that never works anyway.

The sound you make when he pulls your pants off is wretched, but the shriek he earns when he pulls a knife on you is worse. His laugh is mean, reveling in your fear for a moment before cutting your shirt from you with one deft movement. He's pulling you to your feet before you can really process why and shoving you against the metal siding of the warehouse.

"Stay there," he warns and you're unsure if his tone or the throb in your shoulder is a more effective threat. When he walks back toward the station he'd been after earlier, your gaze turns to follow until you catch sight of your own shoulder at the bottom of your field of view and you draw short, taking in the severe swelling there. You prod at the edges of the mottling, wincing at your own ministrations. 

Absorbed in your own injuries, you don't notice when Soap turns on the spigot, or when he aims the nozzle of the high pressure hose at you. He calls for you to hold your breath, but gives you no more time than that which is necessary to look up, confused, before he's spraying you down.

It's freezing, the flow hard enough to bruise where it jets against the fatty bits of you; feels like it might sheer straight through hide where your skin thins around joints. You gasp, get a mouthful of aerated hose water. Spluttering, you try blocking the stream with your hands despite it feeling like your palms are being struck by a thousand rulers.

"S'wha' we use tae wash the trucks!" Soap calls, cackling loud enough to be heard over the spray that engulfs you. You can't get away from it no matter how much you fold into yourself, catching the jet alternatingly on your hip, your ribs, your ass. It does a better job of indexing your injuries than you did, the blooms of pain where you accidentally turn a bruise toward it letting you know that the hip which took the brunt of the collision is sore, that there's a spot on your good shoulder where Gaz tackled you which smarts. Your knees and elbows are all scuffed up, dirt grinding in before being stripped away. You feel like you're being sandpapered down; buffed until you're gleaming despite knowing how the dirt he kicks up clings to your skin wherever the hose isn't actively being pointed.

Soap keeps it up for another minute or so, only turning it off when your shaking gets so bad you think you're like to fall apart. "Quit yer whinging," he warns, creeping closer as he adjusts the nozzle to another setting. "Jes' havin' a laugh, bonnie, no need tae get all bent outta shape."

You want to tell him you're not laughing, but a small voice in your head says you should be grateful he didn't turn that hose on your face, so you keep quiet to prevent him getting any ideas.

When he's close enough to touch, Soap reaches out and grabs your wrist, spraying your pebbled skin down with a softer shower of water that would set you at ease, if not for how cold it is. From your arm, the stream moves up over your head, mussing your hair beyond recognition before trickling down your battered face. Here, the cold water feels good against heated skin and despite yourself, you heave a sigh of relief, tilting slightly into the unexpected relief. 

"Like tha' hen?" he asks, and you hesitate briefly, wondering how much satisfaction you want to give him. He doesn't give you a chance to decide, ruining your brief moment of reprieve by reaching out and tweaking one hard nipple.

You squawk, swatting at him. Johnny laughs long and loud, letting the stream from the hose fall dead as he watches you fume, shaking.

"Look like one ah them wee doggies, lass," he chuckles, "angry cause ye cannae even bite properly." The bastard flicks your cheek, feigning a sympathetic coo when you flinch away. "Tha's righ', bonnie, nothin' ye can do tae fight back," he murmurs, gliding his fingertips against your cheek in a move he probably thinks is soothing. "Ye jes' remember tha', eh? Might keep you alive."

You swallow back the lump in your throat, eyes boring a hole into his shoulder because you can't stand to look him in his terribly cold eyes. When Johnny moves again, his touches are back to the easy, soft caresses from before as he hoses you down. He's surprisingly good at it, despite being armed with only a shammy and a gnarly looking bar of soap. At least he knows to avoid your hair once he realizes he'll need conditioner. That damage is already done, but you appreciate him not dragging his fucking fingers through it on top of everything else. You try taking the soap from him once but he just tuts at you warningly so you go back to shivering, crossing your arms over your chest in an attempt to preserve body heat and keep yourself marginally modest. You can't decide if he's being obstinately particular just to torment you longer or if he's genuinely just like this until he raises your good arm above your head and finds your armpit overgrown.

He grins, sending you a delightfully scandalized look. "See Ghost chose well. Cap's gonnae love ye," he chuckles, and you feel your panic heighten when you think of the threatening older man again. Soap notices. "No need tae worry, hen. You jes' keep bein' good fer us and Cap'll be good tae ye."

For some reason, you don't trust this man's definition of being treated well.

After getting you all washed up, Johnny marches you back into the warehouse where the other men gather around a small, dingy breakroom table pecking at microwaved burritos. They're laughing uproariously as you arrive, Gaz talking animatedly about a loading mishap back in Arizona. The noise drifts off when they spot you, eying you over like a scrap of meat. There's no covering everything and despite yourself, you're almost grateful when John stands, bringing you a blanket he had folded on the seat beside himself. 

"Feeling better, doll?" he asks, patting you dry with a gentleness you didn't expect from the big man. He frowns at the swelling of your shoulder, eyes darting between you and it with an exaggerated level of concern that makes you want to hurl.

You avoid his gaze, your own flickering around the room as you ignore John, trying to gather your resolve enough to appease him. It's a struggle until your eyes find Simon's, apathetic as always despite the disapproving set of his scarred mouth. 

"Yes, sir," you murmur, watching raptly as Simon disguises a quick nod as a glance at his plate. Your heart rate picks up, an impossible tendril of hope slithering up your aorta when John hums contentedly at your words.

"That's a girl, love," he starts, warm palm falling heavy on your back as he starts to guide you back through the warehouse. "Gaz, bring the soup. You're hungry, right pet?"

You are, but Gaz doesn't wait for confirmation, falling in stride as John guides you toward the quaint office you'd caught a glimpse of earlier.

"Now, one day, you'll be able to stay up here with us," John promises, gesturing magnanimously across the dingy warehouse as if it contained all the gold of El Dorado within its rickety racking. "But until then, we're going to have to keep you below." 

Gait faltering, you glance up at the older man fearfully but he pays you no mind at all. "Don't worry honey, only temporary. And I'll have the boys visit you daily to keep you nice and stimulated, hm? Gaz," he barks before you can reflect too much on his choice of words. Kyle, evidently knowing exactly what's expected of him, places the soup bowl he's been carrying on the cluttered desk before moving some chairs, rolling the rug back enough to reveal a cutaway door in the cement slab.

You still, every muscle in your body tensing up when John tries to coax you along. "'S'not so bad, sweetheart, I promise. Come look, yeah? Think you'll have a nice little time if you just give it a try."

Like hell you'll give it a try, knees locking up so tight you look like a GI Joe when John guides you first down the stairs. It's cool, the descent marked by the wet gradient of the cement slab as you pass further underground. It's deeper than you'd expect, the dug dirt bottom damp under your feet when you alight on the landing. There's a short hall ahead, braced by rotted-looking timber. A lone door on the opposite end, braced on one side with a long line of bolts and locks. A single light hangs from the short ceiling, low enough you could smack your forehead off of it if you're not careful. 

"Had Simon come down while you were out, get it nice and ready for you," John brags. You doubt the room on the other side of that door could be made live-in ready even if Simon had been given three years to work on it, but you know better than to say as much. 

This time, when John prods you forward, your legs don't obey. "CanIsleepwithyou?" you blurt, a last ditch effort you're not sure you want him to accept.

But John just chuckles. "Eager, eh pet? Don't worry, you'll earn that right soon enough. Now go on, I'm sure you'd like some nice new clothes to put on, hm?"

Damn him, but you do, so you slink forward, ducking under the hanging light as you pass. The door creaks when you pull it open, weight heavy despite how meager it looks. It feels solid, unbreakable, and you notice quickly that you won't be able to barricade it if you have to pull it open. John does not notice your hesitance, following you into the room with a proud little smirk on his mustached face.

"Well, what do you think?" 

Not much. The floor isn't finished, just cold tile pressed into the dirt. The walls and ceilings are, though, and you briefly feel grateful for it until the batting on the door registers and you realize it's for soundproofing purposes. There's a bed in the corner, larger than you need yourself and made up in cutesy sheets with a strawberry motif. A pile of heavy quilts sits folded at the foot and despite yourself, your fingers twitch eagerly at the prospect of sleeping soon, warm and snug under all that weight. 

"We've got some clothes for you here," John continues. You get the feeling he doesn't need a lot of input so you stand there quietly as he opens a foot locker for you, tattered and olive green. Inside sit two neat stacks of clothes, battered looking but approximately the right size. You remember Johnny's comment about the Captain liking your pits and wonder if they always bring him back a certain type.

And if so, where they are.

"G'on love, pick out something you like," John leers, and you realize you won't be able to get away with waiting until he and Kyle leave to get dressed. 

There's a marked efficiency to your movements. Grabbing the first top you see, you briefly check the tag before doing the same with the bottoms at the top of the pile. Close enough for rock and roll, you figure, dropping your blanket to the cold floor and pulling the clothes onto yourself as quickly as possible. Kyle's eyes are heavy, John's heavier. Your skin crawls, the goosebumps which never really went away after your little bath returning with a vengeance. To your immense displeasure, John has to help you pull your bad arm through the sleeve and he tuts sympathetically when you whine.

"Sorry, sweetheart. I'll bring you down some button ups tomorrow, yeah? You nod when he pauses too long, realizing you're not going to be let off the hook without a proper answer. You creep toward the bed when he hums in acknowledgement, but he tuts in warning again, nodding toward a little desk shoved off to the side of the room. You sit obediently, thanking him with a little murmur when he ferries the bowl of soup from Gaz to you. He hovers, watching raptly until you bring a spoonful of the room temperature meal to your mouth. 

"Good, right?" he asks, before you can even get a proper taste of it. 

You take your time swallowing, playing up the pain in your cheek as you try to suss out a good response. It's just microwaved soup as far as you can tell, but you figure saying as much won't garner you any favors. Instead, you hum appreciatively and shovel in another bite before John can ask you any more questions.

It works, mostly. John takes a quick lap around the room instead of standing over you, sighing now and again at whatever he finds while Gaz continues to stand in the doorway, evidently unamused. 

"It needs work, I'll give you that," John eventually concedes as you slurp at your meal. You hadn't realized how hungry you were until that sweet sweet MSG hit your tongue. "It needs work, but if you're good, we can spend some time down here fixing it up for you. Would you like that?"

You stall, spooning through some of the chunkier bits at the bottom of your bowl. It was kind of them to give you soup, you registered belatedly. Solid foods would have undoubtedly fucked up your mouth. Instead of answering, you ask John what would happen if you were to be bad and watch as his genial nature flips like a switch.

"Got a couple of news articles upstairs if you'd like to read 'em and find out."

Next>>

[sleepy-grav3]

The Moon Child Part 2

Part 1

A/n: Wow. I posted the first part to this and you guys like- rushed to it like starving animals holy SHIT... Should I be scared???? anyway- here ya go

Summary: Danny meets the Aqua Family and gets the love he deserves, plus a little comfort.

Tw: hurt/comfort, bad parents, mentioned discrimination, angst, ghost animal cruelty, swears, objectification, fluff

I forgot to mention Danny goes by he/they pronouns, Atlanteans know a lot of animals, and gender is weird sometimes so they aren't assuming anything and that's fair since Danny could shapeshift if he wants

The Moon Child Part 2 - The Moon Loves the Sea

Warm. He felt warm while in his core. And he could feel the soft cushion he was placed on. He heard the stories that Aquaman Arthur would tell him about all of his adventures and the rambles about his family. He was even told the secret about his stepbrother, Orm, who's death was faked and now lived on land.

It was... nice. Safe. He hadn't felt so loved in a long time. Or, at least, he thinks he hasn't. He had lost track of time while in the labs. It was painful to think about. Visibly so. Apparently, when he drifted into those dreadful terrors, his core's soft light would flicker into a dimmer one which resonated with his sobs. Arthur or his wife, who would keep him beside them at all times, would pick him up each time and hold him close to their heart.

"It's alright" They would say. "You're safe now."

Their heartbeat would always calm him down. It pulsed out reassuring feelings with each beat of their hearts. It was soothing and he never felt so safe. Not even when he was alive. To think he needed to die to feel this way.

It took a while for the pain to finally go away, but he soon felt ready to come out of his core. He couldn't recuperate as much as he wanted to. Not to use his full abilities of his ghost powers. No, there wasn't a massive supply of ambient ectoplasm like in Amity. He learned that what he was absorbing the most was the magic, which acted as a saline solution to blood (which he was pretty sure his blood was fully ectoplasm now).

It was interesting how magic tied in with ectoplasm. He wondered if that's why summoning worked best for those in the realms for that reason. Maybe the specific rituals to summon them even tied closely with their ecto-signatures? It's an interesting thought really.

That isn't the point though. What is, is that he was healthy enough to come out of his core.

"Ok, Danny. Deep breath. Here we go-"

-

Arthur was doing his usual thing: struggling to wake up in the morning and only really doing it because he didn't want to worry the literal spirit of a god. And it's not even because they're a god, but because they're a child. Should he have kept them in the same room. He feels like that might've been a better choice than just leaving them in a room next to his.

Arthur shook his head, rubbing his eyes as he swung his legs over the edge only to jump at the cold feeling of the floor.

"All kinds of water magic and they still can't stop the floor from being cold."

He huffed, getting up and picking out some casual wear that didn't have a bunch of jewelry with protection runes. Some normal clothes to hang out with family.

Kaldur came back yesterday, so they're having breakfast together. He hoped that he'd believe the whole moon deity thing. Kaldur was pretty good and believing new things, but this was their main religion they're talking about. Religion is iffy, or at least it was for those on land. The ocean folk are... extremely loyal.

Should he worry about them trying to destroy the new moon...?

He shook his head. No, they probably couldn't get past the layers of the atmosphere. Hopefully.

He walked out of the door, now thinking about how sea creatures would even pull that off before knocking on the door of the room next to his.

"It is uh, me. Again." It never sounds less awkward. Maybe I should try adding the dramatics?

And with a twist and push, he opened the door only to freeze with widening eyes. The stone wasn't there.

"Oh my god- I lost-"

Only to hear a chirp. he flinched, attention darting over to the full body mirror on the other side of the door that pushed into the room. A door he was going to have fixed to avoid heart attacks like these.

He let out a huge sigh of relief, walking over and bending down with a crooked grin.

"Well, good morning. I didn't expect you to appear for a while. But hey! Perfect timing! Kaldur's going to be joining us during breakfast today, so we could introduce you guys! We could meet Orm soon too! I bet he'll be absolutely surprised!"

The child only looked at him with their big wide doe eyes. Hope sparked in them, but anxiety kept their body tense.

"You... You were serious about it? About me meeting your family?"

Arthur placed a hand on their shoulder, he could barely notice the cool temperature of their body before he saw them jump. He was going to pull away his hand, but then the child relaxed a bit more. It was as if they hadn't had affectionate physical contact in a long time.

"Have they ever been anything but a moon? Are all moons like this? What about other planets? Earth... we have so much pollution. If it were alive..., would it only just barely be clinging?"

"Yes, I was and still am. You're a part of it now for as long as we live. And even when we pass, you will continue to have a place in the ocean. You might not have realized this, but the ocean worships you like a god. In fact, I think I'm going to have to talk with the Justice League about offering an apology gift of some sort."

The child blinked, eyes wide and glistening as a layer of moisture sparkled more yet made the eye look foggy. Looking closer, Arthur could see how moonstones came to be when they cried. It would hurt if it was a literal stone the kid cried. Like- like kidney stones! He was thankful that it wasn't like that.

"You... You aren't scared of me being dangerous to them? You don't think I'm evil or non-sentient?"

Arthur blinked. What?

"No... Nobody- Why would anybody think that?"

The child pursed his lips into a thin line, averting his eyes. With each blink, a silvery white liquid would start to drip and condense to the moonstones he found.

"I... don't know how things work around here... But on land... I've... They don't respect the dead or those associated to the concept. I've tried to keep both sides from trying to destroy the other- but... but..."

Arthur took a breath, pulling the spirit into his arms into a tight embrace. They clung to their veil that was wrapped around their arms like a shawl.

It seems that he had some lore to read up upon and some things to investigate.

-

(This bit's about Danny's POV. It'll be continuing with his while he meets everyone)

Danny didn't know what to think when he looked at himself in the mirror earlier. He didn't have a shirt, but the scarf thing was comfy. He could make it into some kind of make-shift shirt if he wanted to too. His memory on how to do it was... foggy and fractured. Some parts of speech were muffled and what he saw from that time would blur or seemed made up.

He knew the person teaching him.

Why can't he remember them clearly? He could hear whispers of something in his head telling him who that was.

And when he pushed that thought aside, he'd look back at other memories and realize who that was.

Tucker. How could he ever forget about Tucker? Why was he forgetting him?

What made it worse was how much he had to stare at the damn mirror to get the knots right. His chest... it wasn't ever that clean. No Lichtenberg scars. No burns, no cuts, no incision scars. Nothing. It was clean of any of his failures. His struggles. His learning experiences.

And yet... he still imagined them being there. Each time his fingers would brush up against places where he knew scars should've been, a shot of pain would spike as if he'd been electrocuted.

It hurt.

He hated how he remembered.

He hated that he didn't.

He used to remember all of it. He did when he was sobbing for days on end.

Now, it was foggy. Now, it was hidden away. He couldn't reach it.

"Oh my god- I lost-"

He chirped in surprise, turning with widened eyes. Oh. It's just Arthur. I really need to get out of my head.

Arthur walked over, looking slightly drained, as if he was relieved of a sudden weight placed on his shoulders. And by the vibes, Danny's guess seemed right.

Relieved Happy Happy Excited Nervous Happy

He was always so cheery in the... well, what seemed to be the day. Sucks to be out now that he thought about it. It would be rude to just fall asleep at random now that they could physically see if he's awake or not.

Arthur greeted him warmly, cheerily saying how he didn't expect him to come out of his core as if the event was a surprise gift. That... was confusing to say the least. It's easier to have a pet rock than a guest. Now he has to feed him to be polite, or at least offer. He has the room covered since the beginning. It was a really big room. A waste for something someone like him.

He felt his body freeze and start muffling sounds when Arthur started mentioning Kaldur and Orm. His family. Close ones, from the stories he would tell.

M4Dd13 and J4Ck would never allow strangers near him, much less Jazz.

"You... You aren't scared of me being dangerous to them?" He couldn't stop the questions from slipping out even when his expression shifted. "You don't think I'm evil or non-sentient?"

He doesn't even know how he could even think of himself as otherwise. He could remember the custom-made, high voltage tasers that targets his ecto-signature itself until he acted how they expected him to. How they wanted him to.

His eyesight became extremely cloudy. It was similar to the green he'd see before he would start crying after he couldn't cry water anymore.

Ghosts... Ghosts cry ectoplasm. What... What was he crying? What is he now? He was- Why wasn't he gone? He was Ended, wasn't he? They got rid of his heart and crushed his core to determine the durability- there wasn't a way to come back from that.

So why was he alive?

Why can't he-

"-think that?"

Shit- he wasn't paying attention.

Danny couldn't bare to look at the man, guilt eating away at him.

"I... don't know how things work around here..."

He could barely register that it was his voice.

"But on land... I've..."

Why was he still touching his shoulder?

Why isn't he disgusted?

Why isn't he scared?

Why isn't he angry?

"They don't respect the dead or those associated to the concept. I've tried to keep both sides from trying to destroy the other- but... but..."

But they destroyed me instead.

It was all for nothing.

Why didn't he listen to the Ancients?

Why did he just kill people?

They already expected him to do so anyway.

So why didn't he?

He couldn't feel the hug he was pulled into until he stopped crying.

What was he even crying about?

-

Ok so- Maybe Danny should start scheduling his breakdowns. So far, he's had ones at random or ones that goes on for multiple days without any stopping. Or- if he did stop, he really doesn't remember them.

But this is getting embarrassing. He was lucky Kaldur came home late or else they might've either came late or completely missed the breakfast reunion.

Ugh- and don't get him started with anxiety.

His eyes must be puffy or something. Great first impression, Danny! All ya gotta do now is cry again in front of everyone to make it one of the worst introductions in life.

Well, it wasn't really a good start even without him. Arthur had just dropped him onto a very cushiony chair and exclaimed: "Thank the seas! I'm starving!" And just went to devour a whole plate before calming down a bit with Mera scolding him.

He was just awkwardly watching until a plate was placed in front of him. He slightly tensed, attention going from his plate to the hand pulling away from the plate now that it was down. That's when his eyes made contact with Kaldur's. He seemed a bit startled to, as he blinked owlishly before smiling politely.

"Hello, I'm Kaldur'Ahm. You may call me Kaldur."

"U-um.. I'm..." What should he be called now? Phantom didn't feel as right anymore. Ah, what the heck. It's not like they know little ol' Danny Fenton. "I'm Danny." For some reason, that name didn't feel too right either.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard that you've been in a stone, so I was surprised to see you carried in by fa- Arthur."

Curious Happy Happy Nervous

Danny relaxed a bit, turning to his plate once eye contact became too difficult. He picked at his food

"I didn't have much strength when I first formed. I wasn't meant to even have a body but I... didn't want to be discovered and have my core cut up and carved into for some jewelry or something, so I forced myself. you could say it's like... an energy conservation form."

Danny started to actually eat his food, though a bit quicker than he usually would. Stress eating, how lovely.

"Is it a lot of work to stay as you are now? You don't have to stay like this if you're too drained." Kaldur started to fret for him, looking for any sign of strain.

Danny, feeling the worry from him, smiled. It's been a while since someone was worried for him.

"I recovered enough energy that I have a bit extra. I can't do a lot of the things I could before, but I don't feel any pain anymore. So, I'll be fine."

Kaldur relaxed a bit, though still held a slight frown.

"Tell me if you ever feel anything. I'm more than able to hold onto your core and protect you."

Danny hummed, continuing to eat. That's about the time Kaldur remembered that it was breakfast time and started- no, continued to eat from his plate. He must've served himself when Arthur started to or even before that.

"Hey hey hey! Now that the kid's awake, why don't we take a family trip toooooooooo" He dragged out the word as Mera glared at him. "-my brother's grave! I bet he'd love to meet you! And on the way, we can go to the burger place and shop for some clothes, meet my dad-"

Danny looked over at Kaldur, who shook his head fondly at his obvious father-figure. Really, that slip up wasn't getting past him, no way, not possible.

"Don't mind him." Mera sighed. "He's an idiot."

"Hey!"

"Danny, you could always say no. We could go a different day." Kaldur mentioned.

"Danny?" Arthur questioned. Mera rolled her eyes.

"Pay attention, will you?"

"No, it's fine." Danny shook his head with a nervous smile. "I'd like to see him too."

"GREAT!" Arthur exclaimed, making Danny jump and Kaldur wince at the volume. "Hurry and finish your meals! I'll call over the pups!" and then he ran off.

"Pups?" Danny asked.

"Sharks." Mera clarified with a fond sigh. "Ever since he heard someone call them sea puppies, he's been calling them pups and puppies ever since."

"That's... really cute actually." Danny snickered.

"He sneaks away to play with them all the time." Kaldur groaned, remembering the number of meetings he had to take over for the man.

Danny reached over and patted Kaldur's forearm.

"You poor child."

"At least you understand."

-

Kaldur... well, Danny didn't really know how to put it. He was really nice and all, but he was a bit...

"These earrings would look great on you." Kaldur hummed as he held up dangling pearls to his ears.

Kaldur's already bought 3 bags of stuff for him in the last 20 minutes since coming to Reef Town (completely made-up place, just go with it). He even had to adjust his ghost clothes so he could wear the pants and shirt, and other stuff that were bought for him. He still kept the veil since it was really soft and soothed him when he rubbed it between his fingers.

"Ah, but this goes with your clothing... Perhaps we should order one to be made in Atlantis?" Kaldur trailed off, mumbling about different shops and what materials they had along with design names Danny had no clue about. He was almost sure that some of those words were made-up with how they sounded.

"Oookaaayyy- how about we think this over later?" Arthur insisted, a hand on Kaldur's shoulder and the other taking away the earrings in his hands. "We have someone to meet in... about 5 minutes."

"Right, sorry! I got distracted-"

"You're fine, you little urchin." Arthur chuckled, pushing Kaldur towards the door. "Now let's go meet Orm!"

Danny felt a hand on his head. It was a gentle, motherly touch. It nearly made his core let out a purr. Only Jazz could do that with touch alone. Though he nearly started to do the same when they'd mark where they'd cut next. They didn't do that as often with how much they liked to see his organs and bones regenerate.

"Tell Kaldur if it's too much. He's just really excited to have you around and is used to having to give something to keep sea creature friends around."

Ah, he knew that voice.

"Ex..cited? Why?" Danny looked up at Mera, leaning into her touch.

Mera smiled down sweetly at him; her eyes were filled with love that would be pointed to her own child.

She didn't have that drunken lust M4Dd13 had in her eyes each time she came back.

It made his core flutter.

"He sees you as a younger sibling. He's wanted one for a little while now. I... I can't get myself to try again, so he didn't expect to have a sibling. He was really excited to meet you after he heard that you agreed to stay with Arthur. You didn't reject my touch either. I hope it was fine that I held your... core, was it?"

Danny felt her finger card through his hair. He melted at the soothing touch.

"Yeah. It's... it's everything to a ghost. Heart and soul. And... I heard about you from Arthur while I was in my core. And you were the reason Arthur knew to comfort me. So, I knew I could trust you."

Mera smiled a bit more brightly and knelt down, hands holding his face with all the love in the world before she placed a kiss on his forehead.

"I'm glad. Now, let's go catch up with the boys. I'm sure Kaldur and Arthur must be panicking."

Danny could barely follow after her, having to make himself float as she grabbed his hand to lead him outside. Everything was too fuzzy and happy; it was hard to focus.

-

"Did you kidnap a child spirit?!"

That was the first thing Orm said when he saw Danny, immediately looking at Arthur incredulously as he slammed the table with his hands.

He immediately walked over and knelt down in front of Danny.

"I am so sorry about him-"

"Hey! I didn't-"

"-he's an idiot and really doesn't know any better."

"I didn't kidnap him!"

Orm arched a brow at his brother before looking over at Mera.

"No contracts were made."

Orm looked back at Danny.

"You went with him willingly?"

Danny snickered. "He looked like an idiot."

"You too?!"

"You really can't blame him." Kaldur agreed, smiling over at Danny.

Danny giggled and looked back at Orm.

"I'm Danny."

"Orm, that idiot's older brother. Stepbrother. Now, why did a saintly spirit decide to tag along with this family?"

Mera walked over, placing a hand on Danny's head again. He leaned into it, barely able to keep in a purr.

"You remember the incident with the moon?" Orm nodded. "Well, they're the spirit of the moon."

Orm's eyes widened, head snapping right back to Danny.

"You- you're-"

Danny blinked. He's a what? Wait, not the time to dissociate-

"Is... Is that bad?" Danny hesitantly asked.

"No! Not at all- I just- I've always believed in you, it's just that- Seeing an idol is a bit of an experience-"

"An idol?" Danny questioned, looking up at Orm. He was still kneeling, doesn't that hurt?

"Well, I've heard stories about how you'd battle against the sun gods and sent blessed rain to heal those under incurable plagues. That you split your own soul to assist physically on this world to help those that roamed on it! I've traveled to different places on the land just to see your descendants. And what beautiful white features they have. Did you know that humans call them albinos?"

"Really?"

"Yes! They deserve a better name that fits the position of blessed descendants! The fools!"

"I-it's fine, really! I'm glad they're doing ok and- and that my blessing still lives on."

Orm sighed and stood up.

"You're much too kind. Even after they replaced you, you don't hold it against anyone."

Oddly enough, he felt his chest tighten. It was as if...

"Someone has to do my job in controlling the currents, right?" Danny smiled sadly.

The others seemed to feel sympathy for the spirit, Kaldur going over and pulling him into a hug.

"It's alright. The ocean will stand by your side. Forever. They still worship you even now. So don't think you were only a tool, ok?"

Danny nodded. "Ok.."

He fought back against the tears.

-----

A/n: well, that was a bit longer than the last one. I was planning to write more for this chapter, but I'll just add it to the next one. Sorry if it seems a bit stiff, it'll be better eventually... hopefully.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed.

[facefullofsadness]

pussy-drunk!purinz relieve your stress

roommate!purinz x reader, university!au

smut, 1.4k wc

for the lovely @strawbsj whose bday is todayyy!!! sorry if it's not that great jwannie bestie, it's VERY MUCH RUSHED n barely proofread (might fix later on), but I wanted to give u something today and what's better than purinz eating u out as a gift! (and I'm so sorry it's late ajhfsjgd)

your finals are coming up and wow, is it stressful. I mean it's evident in the distressed faces of your fellow classmates roaming the campus, rushing to the local cafes and library to squeeze in every single bit of study time they can so they don't fail. and you've been no different, hiding away in your room, slaving away at ur notebook with your head in your textbooks and a laptop in front of you.

your roommates yunjin and chaewon are completely chill honestly, they're already done with their projects they need to turn in and have no written exams, having chosen arts majors. they pity you, feeling bad sitting on the living room couch, staring at your closed door, wondering if you're even alive since they can barely hear any noise coming from your room.

having chosen a more studious major than your roommates always meant you were working hard at all times while they were js kinda there? they would always try to help you by making u food, getting you water, doing the chores for you, checking up on you, being sweet and all that. but after hours, 12 to be exact, of you studying, they thought that was enough, you desperately needed A FUCKING BREAK.

you were so zoned in on your work that u didn't hear the door creak open. ur study playlist played softly in the background as u jump, feeling hands land on ur bare shoulders. you blink away from your notes and look up at the concerned looking chaewon looking down at you.

"y/n-ie, that's enough..." her voice was almost a whisper, laced with worry.

"seriously, you've been at this for the entire day, take a break, eat properly, SLEEP?" yunjin reiterates behind her, form slowly coming into view.

you sigh out, leaning back against chaewon's relaxing massage on your shoulders. u didn't realize how exhausted you were until you stopped what u were doing, legs restless, eyes twitching, fingers sore, back hurting.

"I'm just really stressed and worried about this guys," you reply back.

"we know, but killing yourself over this isn't gonna help cutie," the taller girl shifts to move in front of you, closing your laptop and books, holding your worn out hands with her own.

"I don't know how to NOT overwork myself, you guys know that..."

the two girls exchange a look before looking back down at you.

"yeah, so let us help you," chaewon leans into your ear and sighs against it.

you feel a chill run down your spine and suddenly your hands turn clammy in yunjin's hold, the girl in front of you looking down at you with sweet but dark eyes.

"w-what?" you nervously ask.

"shhhh, let us do the work baby," chaewon's lips ghost the skin on your neck before placing deep wet kisses on them.

you immediately whimper at the sensation, throwing your head back against her shoulder. you grip yunjin's hands tighter, eyes closing at how good the short haired girl's mouth felt on you. u didn't even continue to question what was happening anymore, everything feeling too good to care and the exhaustion hitting you too hard to resist.

you hear rustling from in front of you amidst the wet noises next to your ear, feeling your bottoms fall to the ground and legs shift apart. u widen your eyes at the girl between your legs, placing sweet kisses against your thighs.

"jen-" you begin before she interrupts you.

"don't try to stop it, just relax," yunjin mumbles against your skin before dragging her tongue across your already leaking slit.

"fuckkkkkk," you moan out, the sensations tingling against your body intensely.

you lace both your hands into their hair separately, holding chaewon's head against your neck and yunjin's head against your pussy. their mouths moved so deliciously against your body, making your back arch in your shitty uncomfy dorm room chair.

you feel yunjin's strong hands grip your thighs apart firmly, making sure u couldn't close them, forcing you to take all of her pleasure. chaewon's hands occupied themselves as well, slipping up your tight-fitting tank top, thumbs circling your hardened nipples.

"you like that, sweet thing? does yunnie's tongue feel good lapping at your pussy? like how I just pincchhhh your little nips?" she emphasizes her words as her actions obeyed her command.

"chaewonnie ahh~!" you mewl, thrashing your head around at the stimulation.

yunjin's tongue was so deep inside of you, moving extremely expertly against your clenching walls, her nose rubbing your clit rhythmically. chaewon's mouth kept leaving sloppy kisses all over your neck, shoulders, jaw, and chest, even leaning over to reach it and leave marks. her fingers were so aggressive, never letting your nipples take a break.

it felt so fucking good. your mind was completely clouded with lust as the two girls fucked you for their own pleasure, addicted to the way your body reacted to each and every one of their touches. your grips on them tightened as every thrust of yunjin's tongue hit that delicious spot within you, chaewon's panting against your ear heightening your already overwhelming pleasure.

with the deep groan of yunjin's mouth against your cunt, the vibrations sent you into a blinding orgasm, a series of high pitched whines and whimpers leaking from your lips, back arching off the chair completely. your moans filled the girls' ears, filling them with more lust and desire than ever.

your body collapsed against the chair again as you released deep breaths through the aftermath of your climax. suddenly, you're being pulled up and thrown gently against your plush mattress, feeling your legs forced open once again.

you panic and pry your eyes wide open, looking down at chaewon now between your trembling thighs. "chae, wait wait- fuck!"

she ignores your cries as her tongue laps at the cum you released from your last orgasm, sucking and slurping your sensitive pussy lips. whimpers leak from you as her mouth forces her way around your cunt. you try pushing her head away from your center but your efforts fail as yunjin comes behind you, resting your body against her chest and effectively holding your hands behind your back.

"nuh-uh babe, don't even think about stopping this. just relax..." she breathes out against your ear before turning to capture your mouth with her own.

she kisses you breathlessly, taking the oxygen from your lungs. your whines are completely drowned out by the tongue being shoved down your throat, choking on yunjin's and your own combined spit, the sounds of chaewon's slurping under you making your eyes roll back.

your abused clit throbs and hole clenches around chaewon's greedy tongue, unable to thrash really at all due to the two girls forcing your body to move as they want. the pleasure was way too much, your body couldn't stop jerking at every single swipe of the girls' tongues against you. it almost hurt, how much arousal brewed in your stomach, just anticipating exploding.

yunjin finally releases your mouth and you immediately let out heaving breaths against her lips, tears welling up in your eyes at the sensations crawling across your body.

"fuck fuck fuck fuck..." you chant against yunjin, her holding you against her chest, caressing your skin.

"shhhh, you're okay doll," she coos.

"I... can't, no more," you start sobbing.

"don't resist, just feel..." yunjin kisses across your face.

"cumming, cumming!" you announce with an incomplete cry, ur voice cracking as you yelp helplessly, legs and body shaking uncontrollably.

chaewon doesn't stop her eating, continuing to devour you between your legs. you scream in sobs at her mercilessness, unable to handle anymore, your sensitive cunt red and worn out.

"okay chaewonnie, that's enough," yunjin sighs, grabbing the short-haired girl by her bob and pulling her back, away from your pussy.

your silent sobs don't wipe the lust-filled stare chaewon has in her eyes. you feel small against yunjin's grasp and chaewon's warm hands on your inner thighs.

"we're not fucking done, not even close..." chaewon heaves.

yunjin chuckles sinisterly in your ear, "mm-mm, no we're not."

you tremble and stiffen, the taller girl behind you swiping her long digits across your sloppy slit, gathering slick and dragging her tongue along it.

"y/n's way too fucking sweet and delicious to stop."

[newobsessionweekly]

To protect and to love

Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist

Tim Bradford x rookie!reader Fandom: The rookie

Summary: You unintentionally make Tim jealous, resulting with nothing good but a confession.

Action | Angst | Fluff

A/N: It's a long one I know. But I HAD to put some action and angst in it, i couldn't help it. Honestly I love it and I love to write about Tim. I hope you like it as much as I do. Have a wonderful day bubs and take care of yourselves. Lots of love

Warning: Mention of hurting, one "fucking" slipped somewhere in this, not proofread yet.

Requested: Yes Words: 4.4k GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

The atmosphere in the bar was alive with the buzz of conversation and the clinking of glasses as you settled in with your colleagues. It was one of the many nights you and the rookies met after a long shift. It was some bond between the four of you even since academy and it felt nice. They started to feel like a family to you.

As Nolan approached with three drinks in his hands, the fourth person occupied the chair beside you, making your mouth to open in surprise and your heart to race. Tim, looking so perfectly even out of his uniform, so casually in his clothes, wearing the same grumpy expression.

"Oh, sorry sir, didn't know you'd join us today." Nolan excused himself for ordering only three drinks.

"Yeah, didn't know I'd be here either." Tim murmured under his breath, giving you an acknowledging smile. After weeks of persuasions from both you and Lucy, he finally gave up.

"I'm glad you came." you told him as you turned to give him a smile. He did the same, but it wasn't a natural one.

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it. This isn't really my scene." Tim admitted sharply, the wave of adrenaline and excitement that flowed over you, broke as soon as his grumpy expression appeared.

"So, Tim, what do you usually do after work?" Lucy asked, flashing him a mischievous grin.

Tim shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. "Usually just head home and catch up on some game I missed or hit the gym. Not really into the whole social scene."

"Come on, Tim, live a little!" Lucy chimed in, nudging him playfully. "You gotta let loose every once in a while."

You couldn't help but smile at the banter between your colleagues, grateful for the opportunity to spend time with them outside of the confines of work. But as you glanced over at Tim, you noticed a hint of tension in his behaviour, his jaw clenched slightly as he watched the scene unfold.

"So, Y/N, how's life as Tim's rookie treating you?" Nolan asked, turning to you with a grin.

You chuckled, shaking your head. "It's definitely been an adventure. Tim keeps me on my toes, that's for sure."

Despite being his rookie for some time now, you had never spent much time with Tim outside of work. But tonight was different, and you were determined to make the most of it.

Tim's gaze flickered to you, "If it's not a living hell, it means you have potential to become a good cop." you squinted at his words only for a few seconds before a sense of pride to wash over you as you smiled at him "But you're not there yet, so keep your head in the game."

Before the conversation could continue, you excused yourself to go buy another round of drinks. As you made your way to the bar, you felt the weight of several lingering gazes on your back, casting a subtle aura of discomfort. Some eyes stopped over your body as you asked the bartender for a refill, giving them one of the best views. Tim's eyes followed each glance, noting the subtle gestures and expressions of the onlookers. And he counted them one by one.

The handsome bartender took his time to do the refill, as his eyes examined you, flashing you a charming smile.

"Hey there, beautiful." his voice was low and seductive if you think about it, but it wasn't close enough to the one you actually found yourself drawn to. "What brings you here tonight?"

As Tim was left alone at the table with the rookies, he found it almost impossible to focus on their conversation, as his gaze kept drifting back to where you stood at the bar, engrossed in conversation with the bartender.

"Oh, just blowing off some steam after a long day at work." you responded politely and considered giving him a chance.

At this point, you couldn't shut people off for some feelings that are in vain anyway. You need to go back in the game if you didn't wanted to be a single 45 year old cop, redecorating your house on your own between shifts like Nolan. That wasn't nice, you scolded yourself for the thoughts.

"Sounds like you could use a drink then. Let me guess, you're a cop, right? You've got that look about you." the bartender asked with a grin as he wiped down the counter with a cloth.

Tim's jaw clenched with frustration, a surge of jealousy coursing through him as he observed the subtle flirtation unfolding before his eyes. He couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him, a sense of possessiveness clawing at his chest as he struggled to contain his emotions.

"Tim, is everything okay?" Lucy's voice broke through his reverie, her concerned expression drawing his attention.

Tim forced a tight-lipped smile, his features taut with tension as he tried to mask his inner turmoil. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied curtly, though his tone betrayed his true feelings.

You chuckled at the bartender assumption, shaking your head "No, no. Nothing like that. I work for the city, but I surely don't have what it takes to be a cop." you admitted, drinks in your hand, lingering a little bit more.

"Ah, close enough though." he leaned over the counter, taking his chance to have a closer look at you. "Mark" he introduced himself with a friendly smile.

"Y/N" you responded politely, as you played his game, leaning in his direction.

"So, what do you say we grab a drink together sometime, Y/N ? I know a great place just around the corner." he proposed, his eyes sparkling with genuine interest.

Mark's easy charm and attentive conversation had left a positive impression on you, and you found yourself looking forward to meeting him.

But Lucy wasn't convinced by Tim's response, her brow furrowing with concern as she regarded him intently. "Are you sure? You seem a little...off," she persisted, her voice laced with concern.

Tim hesitated, torn between his desire to confide in Lucy and his instinct to keep his emotions guarded. "It's nothing, just...work stuff," he deflected, his tone clipped as he avoided her gaze.

Lucy nodded in understanding, didn't want to cross any boundaries, so she just let the subject drop. Anyone could see from afar that Tim was uncomfortable, little did anyone know he was feeling like that because you're not around.

Not even Tim knew why he couldn't take his eyes off of you or why he felt like his heart tightened with every laugh travelling to the table.

"Yeah, we could do that." you replied to Mark, considering his offer before hearing the unmistakable beat of footsteps you can't possibly erase from your mind.

Unable to stand by and watch any longer, Tim made his way over to you, determination etched on his face. "Hey, everything okay here?"

You glanced up, surprised to see Tim standing before you. "Oh, uh, yeah, everything's fine. Just getting the drinks."

The handsome bartender eyed Tim warily, sensing the tension in the air. "Is this your boyfriend?"

Tim's jaw clenched at the question, his gaze narrowing as he locked eyes with the stranger. "Something like that."

"Uh, Mark, this is Tim, my trainer from the job." you clarified, trying to make as bearable as possible the atmosphere shift.

Mark nodded in understanding, though a flicker of confusion crossed his features at Tim's abrupt attitude and he regarded your TO with a polite smile, extending a hand in greeting.

"Hey there, I'm Mark. Nice to meet you," he said, his tone friendly despite the underlying tension.

But Tim's response was anything but friendly. With a frustrated growl, he slammed his fist against the counter, the sound echoing through the bar. "Excuse me," he muttered tersely before turning on his heel and storming out of the bar.

His fists were clenched with frustration and your heart sank with a mixture of confusion and disappointment. You watched him go, your mind reeling with unanswered questions and a deep sense of hurt.

Confusion clouded your thoughts as you tried to make sense of Tim's sudden outburst. Had you done something wrong? Was he angry with you? The uncertainty gnawed at you.

But beneath the confusion, a flicker of disappointment burned within you. You had hoped that tonight would be a chance for you and Tim to bond outside of work, to bridge the gap between you. But his sudden departure had shattered those hopes.

Tim's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Jealousy burned hot within him, a primal instinct that had ignited the moment he saw another man hitting on you.

But beneath the jealousy, a deeper sense of frustration simmered. Frustration at himself for allowing his feelings for you to cloud his judgment, for letting his jealousy get the better of him. He knew he had no right to stake a claim on you, no right to feel possessive or territorial. But try as he might, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gripped him whenever he saw you with another man.

As he made his way through the crowded streets, Tim's thoughts were consumed by visions of you and the handsome bartender, laughing and flirting as if he didn't exist. The image burned like a brand on his mind, fueling his anger and driving him further into the depths of despair.

Monday morning is usually a pain in the ass, but with the events that occurred last Friday at the bar, and Tim's attitude towards you, harsher and grumpier than usual, it was a morning out of the burning hell. Your heart was racing as he instructed you, curt and on point, on what will happen next.

May have been a few days since the incident at the bar, but the memory lingered in the back of your mind like a stubborn shadow. Despite your best efforts to push it aside, the tension between you and Tim was palpable, a silent undercurrent that simmered beneath the surface.

You knew that he was testing you, pushing you to your limits in an attempt to prepare you for the cop life, but beneath his tough exterior, you couldn't help but sense a hint of something else—something that felt uncomfortably like jealousy.

The morning sunlight bathed the patrol car's interior as you and Tim cruised through the LA streets, the radio's steady hum punctuating the silence between you.

Your usual chitchat about the rookie book is now replaced by a brooding silence, his knuckles white as they gripped the steering wheel. You stole a glance at him, noting the furrowed brow and the distant look in his eyes, and couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the gulf that seemed to have grown between you.

The radio crackled to life, dispatch's voice cutting through the quiet."7-Adam-19, we have a noise complaint at 123 Oak Street. Caller reports a disturbance in one of the apartments. Please respond."

Tim glanced at you, and you tried to read something in his eyes as he keyed the mic. "Copy that. We're en route."

There was nothing to be seen in his eyes, but you took your time to admire him in silence, your mind playing all the memories since you became his rookie, couldn't stop the thought that maybe the flicker that burned inside every time you touched his arm by mistake, every time he smiled at you, every time he made you smile, was indeed something. You always tend to question your feelings, rather they're justified or in vain, and this one was surely in vain.

There's no way a man like him, so put together, so ambitious — so handsome— would have even the thought of liking a rookie, you thought. You considered this whole situation too stupid, probably every single woman that comes past Tim fall in love with him.

As you pulled up to the apartment complex, the sounds of raised voices and slamming doors greeted you, sending a shiver down your spine.

"This could get messy," you muttered, your voice tense with apprehension.

"And we're prepared for this kind of situations. But if you don't feel like it, you can give up the badge." his voice is harsh and his expression is far from nice.

"That's not what I meant." you mouthed under your breath and followed Tim into the building.

As you reached the door of the apartment in question, you exchanged a wary glance with Tim before knocking firmly. The door swung open to reveal a chaotic scene inside, a group of men engaged in a heated argument that showed no signs of abating.

"LAPD! Hands where I can see them!" your voice cut through the chaos like a knife, but if anything, it only seemed to stoke the flames.

In an instant, the situation erupted into chaos, with shouts and curses filling the air as fists flew and bodies collided. You and Tim sprang into action, replaying in your mind everything you learned from the academy and your TO. But just as you thought you had gained the upper hand, the situation took a sudden turn for the worse. A shout rang out from the far end of the room, followed by the sound of shattering glass as a fight broke out between two of them.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you and Tim moved swiftly to intervene, but the situation quickly spiraled out of control. Amidst the chaos, you found yourself grappling with one of them, seven feet tall man and muscular construction, your heart pounding in your chest as you fought to maintain control.

Tim knew not to mess up his personal life and his professional one, he did it once and didn't end well. He weighed his decision over and over again, continuously adding pros and cons to the equation. It was safe for you to deal with this kind of men? Probably not, but if he would go soft on you and pick an easy target it would mean he let his feelings step out and fail you as your TO.

All Tim could do in this situation was to have your back no matter what and make sure you get home safe to meet with that stupid bartender. That thought run fast like the wind and bought back your laughter from that night hunting him once more. The lovely eyes you gave that man and the smile so bright, a smile he saw for the first time.

Your focus narrowed on subduing the individual before they could inflict harm. In the heat of the moment, you failed to notice another figure advancing towards you from the side.

Suddenly, a sharp blow struck your side, sending a jolt of pain radiating through your body. Gasping, you stumbled backward, momentarily disoriented as the room spun around you.

"Y/L/N!" Tim's voice cut through the haze of pain, his tone laced with concern as he rushed to your side. "You okay?"

Grimacing, you nodded weakly, trying to push through the pain as adrenaline surged through your veins. But with each breath, the pain in your side seemed to intensify, a constant reminder of the mistake you had made in letting your guard down.

Tim's grip tightened on your arm, his eyes scanning you for signs of injury as he assessed the situation. "Officer down," he said firmly into his radio, his voice tinged with urgency "Send backup and R/A."

Despite the pain coursing through your body, you forced yourself to focus, pushing aside the fear and uncertainty that threatened to overwhelm you. With Tim's support, you managed to regain your footing, the determination in his eyes giving you the strength to move on.

When one of them hurt you, the rest managed to move the circus outside the building, now armed and pointing the guns to their heads. You handcuffed your attacker and Tim dealt with the one stuck under you in the ambush. As you pushed the man down to the car with trembling feet, barely holding steady, you heard sirens cut through the air, signaling the arrival of backup. With a sense of relief washing over you, you spared a quick glance toward the parking lot, where a team of officers rushed between the men, their presence a welcome sight amidst the chaos.

"LAPD! Drop your weapon!" Nolan began, approaching the chaos as their eyes counted the police officers surrounding them. "Hands where I can see them, on the ground, face down!" he demanded as you and Tim put the suspects in the backseat of the car. "Spread your arms and legs!"

As the men followed Nolan's instructions, you tried to join your colleagues and handcuff the suspects, but Tim's hand stopped you in place. "Go sit down. You did enough." he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Despite the urgency of the situation, there was a steely resolve in his eyes as he focused on ensuring your safety above all else. Feeling a surge of frustration welling up inside you, you opened your mouth to protest, but Tim's stern gaze silenced you before you could speak. With a heavy heart, you complied with his orders, a paramedic guiding you to the ambulance for a search.

The sound of Tim's voice rang out through the chaos, his words echoing in your mind as he barked orders to his fellow officers. But amidst the chaos and confusion, it was clear that Tim's focus was solely on the task at hand, his attention unwavering as he worked to bring the situation under control. And as you watched from the sidelines, a sense of hurt and disappointment washed over you, the sting of Tim's words cutting deep as you struggled to make sense of the situation.

With the suspects now securely restrained, Tim turned his attention back to you, his expression tight with frustration as he approached. "What were you thinking, officer Y/L/N?" he demanded, his voice laced with anger as he confronted you.

Caught off guard by his harsh tone, you felt a lump form in your throat as you struggled to find the right words to respond. "I...I didn't see them, sir," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you met Tim's gaze.

But Tim's expression remained unforgiving, his frustration palpable as he glared down at you. "You could have gotten yourself killed out there," he snapped, his words biting as he chastised you for your reckless actions.

As Tim guided you back to the patrol car and began the journey back to the station, the air between you was heavy with tension. There was an awkward silence that seemed to stretch on endlessly, punctuated only by the sound of the radio crackling with dispatch updates.

As Tim sat behind the wheel, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions churned within him. He couldn't shake the sense of shame that gnawed at him, a bitter reminder of how his feelings for you had clouded his judgment during the call.

Seeing you hurt had unleashed a torrent of emotions within him, overriding his instincts as a cop and blinding him to the dangers that still lurked nearby. In that moment, all he could think about was protecting you, shielding you from harm at any cost.

But in his haste to ensure your safety, he had let his guard down, allowing the suspects to slip through his fingers and jeopardizing the success of the mission. The weight of his mistake bore down on him like a crushing weight, a stark reminder of the consequences of letting his personal feelings interfere with his professional duties.

As he drove back to the station, the silence in the car was suffocating, amplifying the cacophony of thoughts that raged within his mind. He couldn't shake the sense of disappointment that gripped him, a bitter reminder of how he had let you down when you needed him most. When you needed him to be your role model, the person you should've learned from.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of unease gnawing at you, the weight of Tim's disappointment hanging heavily in the air. With each passing moment, the silence grew more oppressive, suffocating you with its intensity.

Glancing over at Tim, you feel a pang of guilt at the sight of his clenched jaw and furrowed brow. His usually expressive eyes were now unreadable, a mask of frustration and disappointment that sent a shiver down your spine.

As you wrestled with your own feelings of guilt and self-doubt, you couldn't shake the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Tim's silent treatment spoke volumes, a clear indication of his disapproval of your actions during the call.

Despite your best efforts to break the silence, Tim remained resolutely silent, his gaze fixed firmly on the road ahead. "Tim, are you okay?" you insisted. But your words seemed to fall on deaf ears, his gaze fixed straight ahead as if lost in thought.

"I'm fine, officer Y/L/N." he muttered tersely, his voice clipped and devoid of emotion. But you could see the tension in his shoulders, the furrowed brow that betrayed the turmoil that raged within him.

You weren't about to let him brush you off that easily. "No, you're not," you insisted, your voice tinged with concern. "Something's bothering you, Tim. I can tell."

He shot you a sharp glance, his eyes flashing with irritation. "I said I'm fine," he snapped, his tone sharp and biting. But you could see the pain that flickered behind his eyes, a vulnerability that he tried so desperately to hide.

"Tim, please," you pressed, reaching out to touch his arm gently. "You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever it is, I'm here for you."

For a moment, Tim seemed to waver, his defenses crumbling under the weight of your words. But then, as quickly as it had come, the moment passed, and he withdrew from your touch, his expression hardening once more.

"I don't need your pity, Y/N," he spat, his voice laced with bitterness. "I can handle this on my own."

But you refused to back down, refusing to let him push you away. "This isn't about pity, Tim," you countered, your voice steady and unwavering. "I care about you, and I want to help. But you have to let me in."

Tim's jaw clenched with frustration, a surge of emotion bubbling to the surface as he struggled to contain his feelings. "I cannot change my feelings for you, believe me I fucking tried," he blurted out, the words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them.

The admission hung heavy in the air between you, a raw and unfiltered glimpse into the depths of his heart. And as you looked into his eyes, you could see the pain and anguish that swirled within them, a reflection of your own inner turmoil.

"I need to know that you're safe. Because I care about you," he continued, his voice softer now, tinged with vulnerability. "I kind of like you. And I lost control today because you got hurt. And I lost it too at the bar because you were flirting with that good of nothing. "

The words hung in the air between you, a silent acknowledgment of the truth that lay beneath the surface. And as you stood there, locked in a moment of raw honesty, you knew that your relationship with Tim would never be the same again.

The weight of his confession hung between you like a heavy fog, casting a shadow over the otherwise quiet interior of the car.

You glanced over at Tim, his expression guarded and unreadable as he focused on the road ahead. The air was heavy with emotion, a silent barrier that seemed to stretch on for miles.

"Tim, I..." you began, your voice faltering as you struggled to find the right words. But Tim cut you off before you could finish, his tone sharp and dismissive.

"I don't want to talk about it, Y/N," he snapped, his hands tightening around the steering wheel. "Just forget I said anything."

But you couldn't let it go that easily, couldn't let him push you away when all you wanted was to be there for him. "Tim, please," you pleaded, reaching out to touch his arm gently. "I need you to understand that I feel the same way."

His eyes flickering with uncertainty as he glanced over at you. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I mean what I said." taking a deep breath, you summoned all of your courage, pushing aside your fears and doubts as you spoke "I have feelings for you, ok? But I tried to push them away because I didn't want to complicate things. But after you told me..."

Tim's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white as he processed your words. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you like an unbridgeable chasm.

Then, finally, Tim let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping with defeat. "I don't know what to say, Y/N," he admitted, his voice tinged with resignation "Things are complicated now, for sure." he chuckled, smiling at you as he parked the car.

"You and me, dinner. Tonight." you demanded, trying to play it off like nothing happened. "We talk about it like grownups."

"It's a date, then." he nodded in agreement, forcing his lips to form a straight line, to hide his dumb smile. "I-I.. I mean if you want to." he stumbled upon his words, scratching the back of his head nervously.

"Yes, Tim. I'd love that." you smiled at him as you both took the men from the backseat and guided them through the corridor of the station.

"Tim and Y/N sitting in a tree—" one of the men started mocking the scene they witnessed, but you and Tim cut him off

"Shut up."

[ddarker-dreams]

BRILLIANT fucking idea: SR reader insinuating/offhandedly admitting… she has never been intimate. everyone hearing it like 🧍🏾‍♀️ how do you mean. idk j the flustered bashfulness of suddenly being like “wajt wait if im her bf ,,, im her first love”

SCREAMINGGGGG

[Scarlet Ribbons index]

Giorno

Giorno is a bit strange because he almost wishes he had a predecessor to analyze (and completely outshine). He isn’t disappointed per se, he’s not that weird, but having more study material never hurts. Positive relationships are foreign to him, since he’s been distant from others most of his life. He got along with people well enough — he just preferred his own company. Now that he’s had a taste of your company, he’s keen on making it a lifelong occurrence. Overhearing this admission has him wondering if traditional courting methods don’t do much for you. Or, more realistically, that they go over your pretty head. He's witnessed you interpreting the gang's flirtations as platonic. Consequently, he gives considerable thought to ensuring this isn't a fate that befalls him. Corny as it sounds, his new dream is to stand beside you as your husband. He's chasing this goal without abandon.

Bruno

Bruno feels immensely guilty for eavesdropping on a conversation involving something so personal, but he couldn't help himself. An immense weight feels like it's been lifted from his shoulders upon learning you haven't gotten romantically involved with anyone before. This relief is followed up with sharp self-condemnation — as your leader, he shouldn't get involved with your personal affairs. Maintaining any professional distance is difficult though, especially when you're so likable. People are naturally drawn to you and he's no different. That's why this revelation comes as a surprise, albeit a good one. He tells himself he'd be happy for you if you loved someone else... however, deep down, he knows the regret would eat him alive. He struggles to concentrate the rest of the day. His mind keeps wandering back to thoughts of you, specifically, finding solace in one another’s warmth. The most innocent thoughts make his heart flutter, the man is smitten.

Fugo

Fugo almost renounces his atheism — perhaps there is a God after all. Then he's reminded that you're completely out of his league, submersing him back into the Nietzsche headspace. His self-esteem isn't the best, so the way he looks at it is if no one else was good enough to catch your attention, what chance did he have? It's a miracle you even put him with him. He's blunt, stubborn, and easy to agitate, yet you're one of the few people alive who don't treat him like a ticking time bomb. When his initial pessimism dies down, he fantasizes about you getting flustered by things like a first kiss. It's a cute mental image. Would you fidget? Accidentally bump heads and apologize? Get sweaty palms? Before he knows it, he's invented an entire storyline in his head. It's mushy enough that he struggles to look you in the eye the next time he sees you.

Mista

Mista pretends he knew it all along, as if the Pistols hadn't kept him awake multiple nights, speculating over your relationship status. The little fellas held full-blown debates. Since he's a chill, go-with-the-flow type of guy, he wouldn't have turned green with envy had he learned you former lovers. If they brought you happiness, who is he to hold it against them? Regardless, he can't deny his budding excitement. Should you reciprocate his feelings, you'll experience all your firsts with him. Those initial milestones are the moments that stick with people throughout their life. It's your first kiss in particular that he'd like to have for himself. He intends to sweep you off your feet — literally. It's got to be like those old Hollywood flicks he grew up watching, or what's the point?

Narancia

Narancia has to stop himself from audibly cheering. The multiple abandonments he underwent in the past has him latching onto the few people remaining in his life. This includes you, naturally. You've brought him so much joy, the risk of losing that, losing you, it's a fear that eats away at him. He worries that if you had exes, you might compare him to them and determine he's subpar. Then he'd be cast aside like trash as he had been multiple times before. These insecurities nourish his possessive tendencies. Learning that he has no exes to fend off is a great relief because he would've defended you viciously. It isn't until later that he daydreams over the more innocent implications, like being your first (and only!) boyfriend. He gets so preoccupied by the thought that he walks into a few walls.

Abbacchio

He's actually surprised to learn about this. He considers using Moody Blues so he can hear the entire conversation, but decides against it, believing it to be an intrusion of your privacy. Abbacchio's of the opinion that to maximize your happiness, you should find love outside of Passione. He wants that for you, and yet... his heart physically aches whenever the possibility crosses his mind. What's the alternative, then? Would he make for a suitable partner? He finds the mere possibility laughable. Your brightness would be engulfed by the gaping maw that is his existence. He considers this an empirical truth, not some 'woe is me' sentiment. Ultimately, anytime your love life (or lack of one) is brought up, he distracts himself, so as not to fixate on his shortcomings.

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 || 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠!𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: I knew you were trouble // part two: would’ve could’ve should’ve

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_The Capitol's Dream girl was depressed. After Snow broke her heart and returned only to haunt her. It only takes an official marriage proposal on New Year's Day, an interview with Lucky Flickerman and a rebel bombing to completely break you, and make Snow realize there's a place for one last person to love for the rest of his life.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ 10k words fic ups, reader is depressed, blood, violence, angst, tears, drama, reader makes some cruel things, antidepressants, nothing wild but they have sex so mdni 18+ , Snow actually loves reader (well idk). I couldn't add anything about the games of Mags SORRY.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞_main song for this is Would've Could've Should've, song added to my Coryo Copito's playlist. Also, listen to the 1 and memory lane!!!

♪ ♫ Coryo playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

____________________________________

Nights were longer now. You couldn't sleep. Nightmares of the games, how you contributed. The vivid image of the first time you saw Clemensia after the snake bite. Your mind made you recreate Sejanus being hanged in District 12. And finally, your mind also made you replay every moment you had with Coriolanus Snow since you met him at 17.

You wished you never asked to sit with him at lunch. You wished you never asked to see him again.

He would've been just another classmate. If the things that happened in the 10th Hunger Games were meant to be, at least you wouldn't have been involved.

It wouldn't have hurt you enough to feel so miserable in the present.

But this was as good as it was going to get.

You weren't the best driver, but since very few people had a car, you dared to take the one your chauffeur was meant to. It distracts you from staring at the window and overthinking.

Sometimes you wonder how it would've turned out if Snow won the prize without being a mentor, just like it was planned to happen. Would you have made a stop at his place? For him to get inside your car and kiss you good morning. Then drive to the University of the Capitol? Could've been fun.

But you made your way alone. Only listening to the music that played on the radio.

And you wondered what would've happened if Arachne was alive, Sejanus too, and Clemensia was fine to take classes in person. Would they have made fun of you and Snow entering University holding hands? Could've been sweet.

But again, you were alone. It's a cloudy day at The Capitol. Your long emerald green coat gets stuck with the car door. You roll your eyes, opening the damn door once again to set free the piece of fabric.

You started wearing high heels. It made you look taller and you loved the sound every time you stepped out of your home. Your mother had launched a new collection, and she loved seeing you wearing her creations.

For the record, you haven't seen Coriolanus Snow since the day you had your first counselor appointment. That was a month ago, and it was… great.

Actually, it wasn't, but yeah…

A lot of people greeted you, but none were your friends. You see, the University isn't very different compared to the Academy. The same architecture, and familiar faces that no longer wear the red uniform. And even so, you feel like a fish out of water.

Life isn't perfect. But you weren't ready to start your young adult days feeling so out of breath.

"Y/n!…" you turn to encounter Persephone. A sweet girl from the Academy.

"Persephone. Hi…" You do your best to smile. She was a classmate from the Academy. And she never was your friend but you always thought she was so sweet.

"How have you been? You're all over the news" For the first time in weeks you giggle, feeling a little blushed. The feeling of someone asking you how you were doing felt so good.

"I've had better days. But here we are… And you?" She tilts her head.

"I visited my grandma's lake house in District 4. It was so good. I heard you're in the science and law program" you nod. You also knew Persephone was on the law program.

"Yeah, you're in law too…."

"Is Coriolanus going to be there too?" You stop smiling.

In fact, you weren't sure. But probably he would also be in law. Tigris once said he wanted to pursue politics.

"I'm not sure… We-…we don't talk anymore" she gasped in shock.

"What? Oh, I'm so sorry. I thought you were…"

"No. But it's fine. He must be doing great…" you cut her off before she can ask more questions.

Your first class was okay. Until Snow walked in, wearing a perfect dark blue suit. His silly hair looked slightly longer than the last time you saw him, but still, nothing compared to his messy hair from months ago. You pretend you didn't see him, opting to keep writing something in your journal. But he had to stop beside you. There are some minutes of silence, but nothing would make you turn to knowledge of his presence.

"Can I sit with you?" His voice is colder again. You can notice through a little glimpse of a white rose decorating his suit. But you keep your eyes set on the page in front of you.

And you know you won't fail again.

"No."

He can feel the venom in your voice.

"I'm sitting here." He says after all.

You really don't have time to tear up on the first day of University. You want to stand up and leave, but you're so mature that you won't say anything else.

At least, for the rest of the class, he doesn't say anything else, but you know he occasionally turns to see you.

"Is it gonna be like this forever?" He asks when it's over. You dare to see him in the eyes, enchanting blue as always. But the young man in front of you isn't the boy you met. And yet, he still made your heart beat like he was the same who was once your lover.

"I don't have time for this. Have a nice day, Snow'' he looks as you leave the classroom. His hands shook, and that feeling of guilt assaulted him once again. You are the proof alive of all the pain he caused. So he needs to have you back on his side, so he can feel some humanity remaining in him after all the things he did months ago. Because he knows there's no good left on him, but he can't get rid of you like he did with Sejanus, Highbottom… and Lucy Gray.

You were meant for him. But he was so infatuated with the other girl. And Snow was aware that you deserve the best. You were his ally since day one. So having you by his side again… would seal his imaginary pact.

He looks at you and sees the girl that gave him the chance of his life. He promised his grandma'am you would be the girl he would give a home and a family.

But now, every time he asked Tigris how you were, she avoided giving details. grandma'am was growing suspicious that things weren't going great. Tigris had been a lot of times on your house and mother's shows. Your father would ask for Coriolanus but he didn't know all the things the young man did to his daughter.

So Tigris would say he was still serving as a peacekeeper. And you, you would say you haven't talked a lot with him.

Not anymore. Coriolanus would try every day. As he denied he loved you, he pretended he needed you as you were the one. Just that.

…

"Y/n y/l/n." Suddenly a peacekeeper comes to you.

"Yes?" You ask politely.

"Dr. Gaul demands your presence in her laboratory" you sigh. Of course, she would be the first to ask to see you.

It was the same laboratory. Only that now was near. The way to get there was slow, even peaceful. Maybe because the day was almost over.

The first thing you notice is how many empty water tanks are scattered.

"There you are, Ms. Y/l/n" she appears from the crystal stairs at the end of the room. Wearing a yellow set that made her eyes more bright. Her hair is the same. Looking as evil and cynic as always.

"Dr. Gaul" you greet. Stopping some feet away from her.

"A school new year means new planning ahead" You nod. Already hearing what she was about to say. Well, not entirely.

"The last games were a mess. Between the rebels and Mr. Snow's bright decisions. Our central ideas couldn't be fulfilled. However, I decided to give him another chance, there's so much potential in that boy" You don't know how to feel about that. So you just remain quiet.

"Speaking of the devil…" when you turned back, Snow was walking towards you and the woman near you. Immediately you avoided his eyes, knowing he was probably looking at your dress. The coat was long gone, leaving a soft and accentuating pink dress with long sleeves.

He knew it was inappropriate. But ever since he gained your trust and his feelings of attachment to you, he had a long time to accept he had a thing for your hips. The dress was extremely simple but looked elegant with some bright exotic earrings, and it was your body that created the most attractive shape he'd ever seen.

And soon, his view of you became sided.

"I believe I don't need to remind you of your actions from the last games, Mr. Snow," the woman said.

"It won't happen again." He answered with confidence.

"I know it won't happen again," Gaul says laughing. Making you wonder how much time she had been trying to get into the position she was now.

"This year, let's say you'll be under probation, Mr.Snow. On the other hand, Ms. y/l/n. Another year and another success from you" his eyes were on you again. Turned to his left without shame. And that's when Snow remembered since he came back from District 12 how smart you were. Without saying anything, even avoiding it, you knew he had cheated on the games. And probably, without talking to him anymore, you knew he wasn't a good man.

Only that…slowly, you were also turning into a bad woman.

"Those water creatures are fully developed. They're nothing compared to the snakes from last year. This new invention has marked a new era for us…" To be honest, you don't know how to feel about it. Everything related to the games made you remember your dear friend Sejanus Plinth. He would've hated this creation from you. But on the bright side, this was your future. These were the constant obstacles you would have if you were to achieve success.

"Dr. Gaul. An emergency message has been sent to y/n y/l/n" Immediately you turned confused looking at a new peacekeeper. When you look at your mentor, she nods, indicating to you that you're allowed to leave.

"Excuse me." As you walk away, another peacekeeper has a cable phone. One of the newest wireless ones. Red and shiny, silently beeping. You can hear Snow asking Dr. Gaul something, but the sound of your heels is loud enough to make it difficult to understand as you reach the phone

The peacekeeper hands the cable phone. You pick up, feeling your heart pounding.

"Hello?" The low breathing of your mother can be heard.

"Darling! Something bad happened…"

"What?" You ask. And you don't know but Snow is trying so hard to listen to your conversation.

"Our mines in District 12. Your father made a little trip there with some friends. The people caused a revolt. They bombed the mines." You frown, in shock. Already feeling anger building up in your chest.

"Is pa' okay?" She sighs, which stresses you more.

"Some burns. The peacekeepers saved him on time" Snow listens to Gaul but he literally has an ear on you and the other in the mentor.

"Is it too bad? Like… putting our wealth in danger?" You whisper the last sentence. Your mother is a proud woman. But in the privacy of her family, she allowed herself to be vulnerable.

"I don't know, darling. We still have the mines in District 1. But the ones on the 12 represented greater materials" There's no time to cry and you know it.

So after some soothing words to your mother, you hang up. And you're not thinking clearly. You just know you're angry, and convinced someone had to pay. If you started disliking District 12 after the last games, now it was getting personal.

When you go back to stand beside Snow. You hear Gaul explaining to him how most of the lessons would go. But as soon as she turns back to you, there's an idea that leaves your mouth before you can breathe or blink.

"I was about to say that we should change the arena of the games. Each year it should change, like the seasons. Wasting the opportunity to use the water mutts sounds like a waste of potential for the views. If we still want a spectacle like the one from last year." The woman analyses your words. And after some seconds of silence, she speaks.

At the same time, Snow can't comprehend how poisonous you sound. He knew the call enraged you, it must've been bad.

"Then I'll ask you to find some suggestions for the arena"

"And… I have some ideas for this year Reaping" the woman's evil smile grows. She knows she's turning two young adults into monsters.

"I can't wait till Summer of next year" Gaul giggles, then lets you go, commenting that the next day the actual lessons would begin.

You sigh once she leaves. Finally acknowledging what you just did. Dooming a bunch of kids to fight for their lives with those water monsters. You remember Sejanus. The way he screamed in anger when his tribute was punished for trying to escape.

You're also a monster.

Snow turns to your side, looking as if you have just been cut with something, and he's searching for the wound.

"Are you okay? What happened?" he asks worriedly, caressing your forearm.

"Your beloved district 12. That's what happened." You spit with venom, squirming away from him.

Your harshness takes all over the place as you move away from him.

…

It's New Year's Day. A bright morning, and you already have your first guest. Clemensia Dovecote.

She still wears turtlenecks. But the gloves are gone. You can't stop smiling after seeing her smile and laugh as she drinks tea on your patio.

"I can't believe it worked, y/n," she says changing the subject. The first dose you gave her was after the games, in late summer. And now, at the peak of winter, Clemensia looked amazing. The cracked and raspy yellowish skin she had, the bright yellow eyes that contrasted her dark brown irises, all of that was mostly gone.

"To be honest, me neither…" you admit smiling proudly. Her skin looked slightly covered in scales, but the texture was soft. Like a snake that shines with a new layer of skin. Her eyes were still a little yellow, but the white was coming back.

"How did you come up with it? The treatment and everything?" you gulp nervously, sipping at your tea. If you opened your mouth, there would be no turning back.

Clemmie knew Snow had cheated, she swore to keep quiet about it. She knew about his exile. But she didn't know everything.

Then you thought you owed nothing to Snow. He owed you a lot, and yet, the way he paid was… cruel.

The only thing you were not in your right to share was about… the boy he killed. And as you'd never know he killed many more, Clemmie wouldn't either.

"He chose her. The songbird" Clemensia's eyes widened, she left the cookie she was about to eat.

"No…" you nod, confirming your words.

"Yes. During the games… he sacrificed everything for her. When I confronted him, he said nothing. After he was exiled, he committed a bribe to ensure his service as a peacekeeper on the 12" you spit with hate. The pride you carried each day, had a big crack thanks to that man, and like broken porcelain, it would never be healed.

"But he only had eyes for you… The Christmas after you arrived here, I asked him out and he said he had eyes on someone else. I can't believe him…" you giggle, rolling your eyes.

"He only had eyes for my money and father's position. He had the chance to win the prize and got obsessed with winning something by himself. The girl was just the cherry on top" You quickly added more as you were about to reveal he was… poor. Not because of him, but for Tigris and her grandmother. Tigris would lose her job and your mother would likely turn her down. So no, you weren't as bad as Snow yet.

"After he left. I realized how much he traced the scar on my face. I simply started hating it. And sooner I dreamed I had it gone. So I thought… Why can't I make something for my dear Clemensia and myself at the same time?" The black haired inspected your face.

"Your scar…" she remembered your face back then. The long pink line across your face. Clemensia did once see Snow caressing your face, his thumb traced the line across your nose until it landed on your lips.

Not it was just a memory as your scar. It was gone. Your face is clean, shiny, and perfect. Too bad that just your face was able to get rid of the touch of Snow.

You can't tell her he asked you to marry him. That was embarrassing enough to say it out loud.

"That's now the boy I knew. He had always been a little cold but… he was good. Now… I just can't stand what he did to you. And while I'll thank you for the rest of my life, you helped with my condition. I will ever feel sorry that you came up with it from such pain" Maybe before the bite, Clemmie was a little narcissistic. And her ambition led her to lie and get bitten. But now, she was all about being thankful and seeking peace everywhere.

"It's okay, Clemmie. Even after all, with Sejanus gone, all of what happened last summer… I'm happy that I have you" she smiles, offering you a big hug.

"Yeah, you won't get rid of me next year" She was officially coming back to class at the University after the winter break was over. Now Snow wouldn't be able to sit next to you.

"I won't mind…" Suddenly your mother comes out from one of the many balconies of your house.

"Girls! The stylist is here!" She lets you and Clemmie know.

This year, the annual New Year's Day will be at your house. The patio where you had breakfast and tea with your friend was already decorated with long tables. Porcelain plates are perfectly accommodated with wine velvet bows decorating them.

Clemensia's father talks with you about the revolt in District 12 and the burns he got. After that… more peacekeepers were sent. And slowly… the whole territory was becoming marginalized.

You ignore it, you only have eyes for the dress writing you on the other side.

When you open the door of your room, there it is.

A golden dress. Shinny and full of sequined beats. With metallic gold puffy fabric resting on your lower half back and ending around your wrists. Bare shoulders style.

You feel bad for not asking Tigris to style you, but she was already busy.

"I... I can't believe this…" you gasp, touching the elegant fabric of the dress. Clemmie can't stop saying how beautiful the dress is.

"With red lipstick and burnt pink eyeshadows… it'll look fantastic," the stylist says to your mother, already visualizing the look.

…

The patio is full of people. Elegant bonfires make everyone warm. Most of the guests look at your dress as you greet them. The last guests were Tigris and her grandmother, you placed them both in a table full of fashion contacts of your mother.

Clemmie is talking with Festus, Persephone, and other classmates.

Everything goes well until you set your eyes on the garden's entrance and you spot Snow entering.

Your eyebrows immediately frown. The night had been peaceful. And ever since winter break started, you haven't heard of him.

Why did he have to come? Was it for his grandmother?. Doesn't matter, you don't want him in your house.

He spots you and knows you just turned angry. You grab him by the arm and pull him away.

"What are you doing here?" You ask annoyed.

"You invited Tigris and Grandma'am" he shrugs.

"Yes. Tigris and Grandma'am. Not Tigris, Grandma'am, and Coriolanus" For the first time in months, you say his name.

"I have to talk to your father," he admits. You are confused, but he won't say anything yet.

"You look lovely tonight" You ignore the praise in his voice. But he genuinely believes you look astronomically beautiful. Snow was trying to act confident, but deep down he was nervous.

And it worsened when your dad interfered.

"Coriolanus. I'm glad you made it on time. Just an hour away till the countdown" you turn to see your father, offering him a glass of champagne. Neither of you should be drinking yet. But the elite of The Capitol was allowed to break the rules a little.

"No, of course I couldn't. I was just saying how gorgeous y/n looks tonight" your father smiles. You knew your father was believing Snow, that he was a gentleman.

"My one and only child. Perfect as always…" your father answers, putting his arm around your shoulders.

"I would like to discuss something with you. In private…" your heart beats faster.

"Be my guest, boy…" he tells him to enter the party. And as they leave you feel nauseous.

…

There are twenty minutes left till New Year's Day. Your father hasn't come out with Coriolanus yet. You nervously want to chew your nails. But you do your best for Clemmie. It was her first public appearance since the summer.

You had been trained to satisfy The Capitol's expectations since you were a kid. You knew what you could and couldn't do.

But none had prepared you to hide your shock.

"Dear guests. Family and friends. I would like to give an announcement" Your father appears, the sound of the glass capturing everyone's attention.

"With a new year around the corner, changes are too."

It couldn't…

Snow walked through the tables, towards you.

No, no, no, no.

"It is my pleasure to announce the engagement between Coriolanus Snow and my only daughter, y/n"

You swear you can't breathe.

You don't see Clemmie's face of horror. Tigris is highly confused. Grandma'am at the verge of tears.

"For my darling and her fiancé. Whom I wish eternal luck and happiness" your father finishes the toast.

Snow is beside you, he's not happy either. But he is the first one to start acting for the sudden flashes and cheering.

"How couldn't you tell me you wanted to get married, dear?" Your father asks, being the first person to hug you.

Your shock is so big that you don't even remember smiling for the pictures. You don't remember feeling his hand around your shoulders. You don't remember bursting into the house.

Snow follows you. It's empty, everyone is cheering because the countdown is about to start.

He calls your name. But you don't listen. He follows you through the kitchen and living room.

"WHAT?" You explode before being able to go upstairs.

You see his desperate eyes.

"I didn't know your father was going to announce it that way." He notices your face is red from anger.

"Listen to me, Coriolanus Snow. NO MAN will come and take away the pride of the woman I am." You scream in his face. You won't go quiet like the first time.

"YOU WERE NOTHING!. YOU OWE ME YOUR LUCK!" Snow can only fix his eyes on the sequins of your dress. He had never seen you screaming like that. And nobody would hear anyway.

"If this was your way to make me surrender and get me back. You're so wrong. Because you are going to be in debt with me for the rest of your life. Unless you want a rebel wife like it was your beloved Lucy Gray Baird." His eyes widened at your sudden attack. He has to process every word, every disgusted face you are making. He hadn’t thought about the songbird in many days. Hearing her names sent chills to his spine.

"I wanted this to be different. I had to "You hate him. You can't stand seeing him in his perfect grey suit, his perfect hair and eyes. You really hate him.

"YOU HAD NOTHING!. IF YOU WERE GONNA HUMILIATE ME LIKE THAT, YOU HAD TO GET ON YOUR KNEES AND BEG TO MARRY ME!" Whisking away, he grabs your hand, and when you turn, you find him on his knees.

"Please…" you feel he placed the ring in your hand. And it's too much.

You slap him. And then run away to your room.

As you lock the door, you throw the ring. And when tears start streaming down like a waterfall, you hear the first fireworks.

There's a bottle of pills in your vanity. The treatment for your low mood. You only need it once in a day. But you take two hoping it would knock you out and make you forget about the night.

It's officially a new year.

…

Three weeks later, Lucky Flickerman is interviewing you and Snow in his late-night show. You can't stand how Snow is caressing your hand. The way he slightly giggles and smiles at you, whenever there is a silly question.

You only do this because nobody knows the truth. Just Clemensia and Tigris.

"Sources tell us that it'll be a spring wedding. Is that right, y/n?" The man asks. You sigh, smiling.

'We're not sure yet, Lucky. There are so many details. Especially with my dress. But my man here is patiently waiting" the interviewer laughs, throwing a sarcastic comment about the dress.

"And what about kids? Is a baby on the plans?" Immediately, both of you blush.

"Yes. We want to have kids one day" Snow hurries to answer. You want to laugh.

He would be a terrible father. Some days ago, he was at your house for a family gathering and while he liked seeing you with your baby cousins, he knew he wasn't good with them. He didn't know how to play or make them laugh. But he had to make everyone believe he was a man of family and marriage. Even when both of you were still nineteen.

"Oh. Well, you're still young. There's plenty of time, pair of lovebirds" You make the strength to turn and smile at Snow. He returns you the smile.

And he wants to believe it's an honest reaction from you. He really hates that everything happened this way. He wanted to wait personally and privately ask you to marry him again. Not like this.

"Y/n… How did you know Coriolanus was the one?" It takes you aback. You can't lie. There's a truth.

"When I met him, he made me feel comfortable. He was so sweet and he trusted me. He made it hard for me not to love him. He has these gorgeous ocean eyes, that every time I see him I get lost in them. It reminds me of the kind boy I met some time ago…" Everyone feels emotional. Coriolanus is aware of the real meaning behind your words, and he can't help but honestly smile. He knows he realized it, but he couldn't bring himself to admit it.

"These ladies and gentlemen… is a couple in love!" Lucky laughs and points at you and Snow excited. And he says that he'll be back with the broadcast for the weather, he thanks you and your fiancé for being there.

"Take care, guys. Don't forget to invite me to the wedding!, I'll get some people inside to bring the news anyways…"

And finally, both of you are behind the set. You don't even glance at Snow. But he hurries to stop you, interfering in your way.

"I'm sorry. For everything…" you cross your arms.

"No. You hate me. That's why you keep doing this to me…"

Your assistant appears handing you a glass of water and a little plate of something Snow can't see.

"Here's some water and your antidepressants, miss" You blush and ignore the way your fiancé is looking.

As you walk away, Coriolanus only feels worse.

…

You stare at the public library. Now closed just for your wedding happening in a couple of hours.

There are white roses everywhere. Petition of your mother to commemorate Snow and his family. You hated it.

It ended up being a spring wedding. But a very cold one. By early June, summer would start. And for now, snowflakes still fell upon The Capitol.

"The dress is ready…" Tigris says, appearing on your side. She sees how you stare at the whole place with dismay.

"How could this happen?" She asks, wondering.

"My younger self would've loved this day. But now… is different" You didn't want to insult her cousin.

"His younger self would've also loved this" Tigris remembered how enchanted was Coriolanus for you. Saying that he made a rich friend who was so sweet. Soon he admitted you were gorgeous and delicate. Now forgetting to mention you only when Grandma'am asked.

"He's trying to get you back," Tigris adds. And you question it.

Ever since the engagement. He always reached for you. Asking how you were. The kisses on the cheek to greet you. Felt honest. But you doubted you would ever forgive him. Even if you ended up having his children someday…

"I know it won't change anything. But I'm sorry. You didn't deserve this…" the young woman lamented. After you confessed most of the things Snow did to you, she added that to her list. And slowly, Tigris had slightly brushed aside her cousin.

"I didn't. But what's pissing me off is the wedding night" Tigris coughed awkwardly. And you rolled your eyes.

"No, Tigris. It's not about the sex. It's about me having to leave my house forever. I refuse…" She relaxed.

Honestly, you hadn't thought about sex. You knew it would happen anytime after marrying. But you wouldn't give Snow the satisfaction to even give hints.

At least, your father suggested Snow temporarily move in with you in your room since his new penthouse would be only for Tigris and grandmother. He would sleep in your tub.

"It's a great place for a honeymoon. Capitol's north is full of mountains, fancy restaurants, and actual snow" Somehow, you laugh.

"Fitting for my new legal name" Tigris joins you and laughs, hugging you tightly.

You stare at the flowers, and the hundreds of seats, and you aren't ready. But there's a smile on your face. Because at that point you don't even care.

…

Coriolanus was alone. He thinks Sejanus could've been there. Annoying and smiley as always, but he would've been the best man. Chosen by him because there wasn't another option. But it's only him. Staring at his mother's ring.

Pure gold, a medium size rectangle-shaped diamond. Shining ridiculously in white and small rainbows.

You look just like your father on his wedding day.

Your mother was so happy. Spinning and laughing as your father danced with her.

Remember. As you take a wife, you are choosing a life partner. You have to remember every morning why you chose her. You have to respect and protect her. Give her a home, a warm place to grow old together.

Y/n is the perfect woman for you. She's so lucky to have you, my boy.

All of those things, Grandma'am had said to him as she handed the ring.

And now sitting alone in a room. Suit ready, in black, and very little gold details in the white shirt under. Tigris said it was going to match your dress.

Your father actually loved your mother, Coriolanus. Treat her right. That is the least you could do…

She knew. Tigris had to know everything.

Coriolanus wondered how you would look. A princess-style dress? Maybe velvet? And he imagined your face.

That's when he can't take it anymore. He cries. Because everything was going to be a lie. He cries because it could've been true. If only he had made better decisions. If only you weren't so smart that you discovered him.

He's a broken man.

But he grips the ring on his palm. Wiping the tears and deciding that he's never going to fail you again. As he knew you had never failed him. And even when you hated him, neither you would.

…

There are three mirrors. Your hands trace the shiny beats of your dress. From the strips to your breasts, to your waist and hips. The end was full of them. Combining gold, and even dark brown or grey. It was simple, slightly sheer. But extremely elegant. Made with crystals from your family's mines. Representative of your native District 1. Your hair is down, perfectly cut in that shag haircut you had when you were a teen. It fits perfectly with your veil. Also covered in tiny pieces of crystals that cover your head, to the tail of the dress.

You looked like a Capitol's bride.

And for some reason, you can't find the tears. It's just you staring at the mirrors. Accepting your doomed life.

As you open the door, you know there are already tears on everyone but you.

Clemensia, Persephone, your mother, and Tigris sob and look at you in shock.

"Oh my god, my baby. You look perfect!" Your mother cries, caressing your cheeks and sobbing. You smile at her, just that.

They keep talking about the dress when you hear a knock followed by the door of the room opening.

"Is there any time for this old woman to see the bride?" Tigris smiles at her grandmother, inviting her to join.

"There's only ten minutes left. Everyone hurry!" Your mother says. They exaggerate, only Tigris gives you one last retouch, and hands you the bouquet. With white roses and some lilies scattered.

She kisses your cheek and smiles deeply.

"It's gonna be fine. I swear…" and with that, she leaves.

Grandma'am only looks at you with love. She always liked you for his grandson. And she believed love floated around you two. For the record, she said it two weeks ago in a rehearsal you had.

"I knew it from the first day my little Coriolanus came home rambling about you" she smiles.

"And from that day, it always had been you, my dear. Even today… always saying you are the love of his life" Your eyes water. Coriolanus wouldn't lie to his grandma about something like that. He could lie about killing someone but not about something he knew would make her happy.

"He did?" You ask as she takes your hand.

"Of course. I know I'm old, and I can't tell he has committed some errors. But I know those blue always are so in love with you, my child" That couldn't be.

"Do you love him?" You won't cry. But you're fighting the lump in your throat.

"I do. Ever since the first day…" you admit.

Maybe you would always resent the man you were going to marry. But you would always love the memory of the boy you once had.

"Promise me you will make him happy, dear. He has so little when we lost everything once. Take care of him. Give him a family, that's all I ask" You can't say no to her. You just can't.

"I promise." She hugs you. And you swallow the lump, looking at the door.

…

The moment had arrived. The doors opened, the music started and everyone turned back to see you entering by the hand of your father.

Sounds of shock, admiring, and more are very low but noticeable.

For Coriolanus, it's only you. Your hair was like when you met him. The dress is so perfect. Your makeup too. And he promises to keep the image of you in his mind for the rest of his life.

He genuinely smiles. And you are feeling so confused. Could his grandmother have been telling the truth?

Coriolanus actually loved you? The way he had been smiling and treating you for the past months. Had he really been feeling sorry?

Would you forgive him if that was the case?

You can't tell because your father has dropped you at the altar.

You didn't even feel his kiss on the head and promised good luck.

You just feel Snow taking your hand. It's warm, even soft for his calloused hands.

And you can't turn to see him.

There are many people taking pictures of you and him.

Everyone loved the Capitol's Dream Girl and her handsome wealthy fiancé ever since the engagement.

When you last expected it, you are officially Mrs. Snow.

"You may kiss the bride…" you know he's doubting. But there's no time, so you stand on your tiptoes to kiss him.

It takes him aback, but soon, his hands find that damn spot, in your hips. And it doesn't feel wrong, for some reason.

You just see him and you realize he's your man now.

Neither of you can understand the emotions flowing at the moment. You like seeing him smiling at you like that, but you also feel sad. And he loves the way you look, he feels so attached to you.

In other words, both feel like it was real. But both knew the truth.

You don't dare to eye any of your family or friends as you leave by the hand of your now husband.

…

The reception was just as big as the ceremony. With the most elegant music, food of all kinds, and a varied menu.

Your husband has chosen to give the option of fish florentine, mentioning to you that his uncle used to get the best food from District 4 before the war.

For you, it was fried steak with three types of cheese and coated with mushroom cream.

There's a picture for everyone. You and Snow enter the party. Your father says a little speech about how much of a great marriage you would have.

You dance with your baby cousins. Lucky Flickerman was able to ask about your dress and possible honeymoon location.

You ignore your husband for the rest of the night. Only when the cake has to be sliced. It's a 5 layer cake, covered in white and very little baby pink roses. Snow and you agreed to make it white chocolate with raspberries and cream.

He cleans some cream from your cheek, and before you can even think about it, you laugh.

He danced with you but you only decided to hear his heartbeats, instead of seeing him. It made you understand that lonely days were over. But at what cost?

…

That night, you are already seeing the mountains and green woods covered in white at the top. You sigh, looking at the metallic silk nightgown. You didn't want the traditional white or pink silk gown. This was short, offered some cleavage, it shined in orange and pink tones when it was supposed to be lavender.

During the whole hour trip to the residence of the honeymoon, you didn't say anything to him.

When you come out of the bathroom, he's sitting at the edge of the bed. A dark grey robe on him and you wonder if he was naked too.

Ignoring him, you go to the giant vanity in front of the bed.

You try to focus on the plenty of assignments you'll have after the honeymoon. With less than three months before the next games, your water mutts had already killed a person. Gaul only laughed and insisted on you to feed the beasts with the corpse.

Little did everyone know that on the Reaping day, District 12 people would receive a tiny stain of liquid Mercury on their ballot. Within months of inhaling that thing, they would be sick. It was your revenge for the revolt in the mines that almost killed your father.

But for now, you can only feel his eyes on you. Like the first day of school. You know he wants to touch you. He wants to claim you as his wife. But he doesn't have the right.

So he stays seated, hoping you will make the first move.

Ignoring the way your heart beats, wanting to feel something. Your heart was blind, thinking you could make love with Coriolanus.

Once you have finished with your facial cream. You turn off the light. Only the balcony offered some glimpses.

You step between his legs, hands on his shoulders. The smell of tobacco leaf and vanilla bean perfume hits him, making him gulp. Unsure whether to touch you or not.

"Wait, y/n… Are you-… Are you sure?" He asks, unsure of what is happening. He kind of thanked you for turning off the lights. That way you couldn't see how blushed he was. After all, this was going to be his first time. After actual years of desiring you, he gets to have you for the rest of his life.

Then you lean, inches away from his lips.

" I don't want to hear you" and you don't say more, neither does he. In the darkness, he finds your lips and there's plenty of time to kiss you slowly. With wet sounds, your hands fly to his hair. Making him moan for the first time. It shouldn't be turning you on. But it is, so you slightly move your head, and maybe he understood, 'cause he started kissing your jaw, soon your neck.

He feels you pulling out the nightgown, and it's making him so fucking hard.

You kiss him again and he's free to wander across your naked body. Now his…

It's his first time, just like it is yours. So when he tries to touch you past your lower belly, you guide him.

Softly making him slide his fingers across your wet folds. You moan and he thinks it's the most erotic thing he's ever heard in his life. He knows you are skilled even when it's also your first time. He knows because of your timing, the way you swayed your hips any time you walked, and the way you balanced touching him and moaning at the same time.

Before you, he rarely touched himself or thought about sex. But soon after kissing you for the first time, he would hate himself for thinking how you would look underneath the Academy uniform.

And now, there you were, naked, taking his virginity as you slowly rode him. You swear he has to be big enough to be able to feel him and his details inside you. The pacing was so soft yet hard. Soft because of your slick, hard because of the pleasure.

All you could hear was his sighs, but the stars of the night were your moans and little yelps for him. No words exchanged, just the sound of your desire and his response.

And when you start going faster, holding onto him as if your life depended on it, he was over the edge to say it. But he couldn't.

Your first time should've been with him on top. Tigris said it was traditional. But he let you take the lead, and it was turning out better. You even let him paint your walls with his cum. You let him kiss and suck your nipples as he felt the last spasms of his climax, prolonged by the way you squeezed him.

Even with the silence, both of you knew. It was the hardest and best orgasm of your life.

…

At the outsides of The Capitol, there's an office. All University students needed to submit their petition to graduate two years prior to the ceremony. Gaul demanded you and Snow to go as soon as you returned from the honeymoon.

Now, two months married, you feel slightly lighter. You talked a little bit more with him. Breakfasts were quiet but peaceful. At the University he always tried to protect you.

The news was all about the wedding. Saying it was the event that officially marked the end of the war. People loved you and encouraged your husband to pursue a political party to start campaigns, hoping to win the presidency. As for you, rumors had spread that you were going to be the next game maker of Panem. Evenings were to study and go for some walks. And most of the nights you repeated the same formula. Ending up tangled in your bed with the darkness reigning.

You couldn't help but wonder if something had changed.

Coriolanus Snow was still cold, serious, a man of few but harsh words. But to you, he seemed warm. Like if fucking him had made him switch and now he was eating out from the palm of your hand.

Still, you still felt like the past was haunting you. With memories of the last games and the moment you lost your lovely blonde guy.

"It's done," Snow says coming out of a private office. The green tiles stop being attractive to your eye, making you blink twice to stare at your husband.

He's yours, just like you wanted. With his perfect eyes, perfect smile, hair, body, and dream life.

You sigh with relief. He had insisted on submitting both papers to soothe you from stress.

"We are likely to receive a letter next year. The woman said it was basically approved for us…" you nod. He offers you a sweet smile, that you can't help but reply.

He offers you his arm to take, ready to leave the office.

Lately, Coriolanus has been worried for you. The antidepressant treatment was over, but you were under pressure because you had created the arena and strategies for the 11th Hunger Games. People debated your capacity and ideals. And he knew that would stress you.

He was patiently trying to make you feel comfortable on his side. To make you feel again like you said in the interview with Flickerman.

"Thank you." You say to him.

"Of course."

After taking the elevator, you two are ready to walk out. Until there's a loud explosion near. You exchange looks with your husband, and as he squeezes your hand tighter, what feels like another explosion makes you and Snow fly away.

When he opens his eyes, the building is literally on fire. He reacts quickly, realizing there has been another bombing.

He's okay, just his neck hurts, but there's no blood. It's you who's worrying him a lot.

He calls your name but you don't respond.

Through the ashes and hazes of dust, he looks out for you.

A few feet away, you are coughing, lying on the ground.

He runs and kneels beside you.

"Y/n, please. Can you hear me?" You nod slowly, barely moving.

"I-can't breathe…" Snow sees how your nose bleeds and there are some glasses making your arm shake a little. The sleeve of your cardigan is drenched in blood.

He panics and goes into a full panic attack. Not even when he was in the arena and got hurt. He truly feared losing you.

"I'm taking you out of here" he looks around and notices there's no one around.

He carries you, doing his best to run out of the increasing fire.

"I don't want to die, Coriolanus" you gasp, trying to breathe. He looks down at you, now looking at the dirt in your face.

"You won't die, love. Just calm down and breathe" In fact he knows you could die. But he refuses to accept it as he finds the exit of the building.

There's chaos on the streets.

And in the middle of the disaster, he starts asking for help.

"Please… I need an ambulance for my wife!" He pleads to some people who seem to be helping a group of kids.

A woman listens and calls for a man.

"Help is coming, y/n. Do not close your eyes" The rush in him impeded him from crying. Because he was so freaked out.

"Mr. Snow, I'm a doctor. I'll help your wife get into a hospital" A middle-aged man gets closer, inspecting your face. You can't hear anything. Your eyes close by themselves, and you still feel so out of breath.

It's the sound of the ambulance that works as a lullaby and makes you pass out.

…

It's uncertain. But reliable sources said it was a direct target from rebel allies, a direct target to you. Because the next game maker needed to be erased from Panem before she could even start. Snow is shockingly angered. And he adds another point to his hate for rebellion.

"I won't quit." You affirm from the hospital bed. Your mother frowns.

"I don't think you're understanding the seriousness of this situation, y/n" she suggests, to which your father also nods.

The door opens and Coriolanus enters, hurried to inspect you.

"Are you Okay? The doctor said it wasn't that bad but-" you smile, caressing his shoulder.

"I'm fine. Just inhaled too much smoke. And my arm, but that's it" You show him your left arm covered in gazes.

He kisses your forehead.

"I was so afraid," he whispers in your ear.

And maybe it was all about your emotions after the shocking day. But you finally feel it. You love him. And the way he had acted since the engagement made you believe he could possibly feel the same. But you aren't sure.

"I won't quit. That would only give the rebels a point. I will make this games memorable. And nobody in Panem will ever question my methods" Your words shouldn't have made your husband proud. But it does.

"You're so right, dear," he says, making you smile nervously.

…

You are allowed to leave the hospital that night. And the whole ride, you have to fight the tears. You can't take it anymore.

As soon as you get inside your room. Coriolanus starts running the tub to clean you up.

You get on your knees. Your throat already feels as if you were choking. He spots you on your carpet, looking so vague and lost.

"Please, Coriolanus." He's watching you carefully. And by your face, he feels you are about to say something from the bottom of your heart.

"What? Are you in pain?" He asks scared, kneeling in front of you. You don't answer and that terrifies him. Until you do.

"Tell me you are in love with me. Just once, doesn't matter if you never say it again for the rest of my life. If you mean it, say you love me." Tears start flowing, your face turns red, and Coriolanus can't help but feel vulnerable by seeing like that.

"Because if you say you only insisted on marrying me because of the money, and my father's position… I'm gonna hate you till the day I die. For all you did to me and everything that could've been" he has to close his eyes. To not see you as a tear falls without a warning from his left eye. He has to decide. Is he going to break his promise? He said he couldn't love anyone again. But you weren't new. You were the first. She was the last.

Coriolanus wished to be your boyfriend soon after meeting you. And from waiting for the right moment to ask, he ended up ruining everything for his ambition. From believing she was different, that she was worth it. Ignoring all the pain he caused to you.

And until that moment he realized he had almost obligated you to marry him.

He already had what he wanted. The money and his power were growing, and he had the girl.

Crying on her knees in front of him. Asking him to end her pain. Just by loving her after all the pain he caused her.

Slowly, he reaches for your face. Your sobs became almost silent. Your heart was beating so fast. And if Coriolanus didn't speak now, you would end up having a second mental breakdown.

But he caressed your cheeks. And he traced your face. Where your scar should've been. New waves of tears fall as you feel what he's doing. Only making shut your eyes harder.

"Look at me, y/n" you can't. You're not ready to hear him saying he used you once again.

"I can't." You whisper, sobbing. He decided then to grab you by the waist. Being so gentle, made you feel like two years ago when he was still your lover.

He placed you carefully on the bed. Making you hide your face against the pillows, ruining the white satin with your makeup.

He doesn't care. He just wants to be honest. Real. He's still young. Coriolanus knows he can't live the rest of his life married to you, making you believe he never loved you.

Only you would be able to see who he really was. Even if he ended up having children with you someday. He would never love them like you.

He could be cold and his decisions would be considered cruel. But the only person on earth that would judge him was going to be you.

"Please look at me, y/n" he caresses your cheek, smiling softly. Slowly, you sit, facing him finally.

You can see your old and sweet Coriolanus with the smile he's giving you. And it only makes you cry and cry again.

"I love you."

You stop. Hiccuping, you look perplexed at him.

He's still smiling.

You know he killed two people, probably three.

You'd never know he sent Sejanus to be hanged.

You know he's not the best person.

You'd never know he had a letter he was going to send to you before going to District 12.

You know he caused you so much pain.

And yet you thought you'd never hear him saying those three words.

"I made you suffer. I ruined everything. You know what I did just by looking at my eyes. How can we love each other after all?" You shrug. Trying to control yourself and answer him properly.

"Maybe because we never got the chance to make it real." He chuckles, taking your hand.

"You know I also did cruel things this year." He nodded, having no right to judge you. He wondered if you did all of that from rage, for everything that happened.

"And I still believe you deserve the world, Capitol's dream girl…" he makes you laugh. Out of embarrassment from the silly nickname Flickerman gave you.

"My father was a bad man, and yet, he always treated my mom right. I can't promise I'll be perfect, but I will never hurt you again" You brush his hair. Dishevelling it in the process, making him look like a year ago.

"Promise me. Just you and I, getting each other's back" he says. And you know you'll go to hell for being with him. But he was the love of your life.

"Just you and I, my love" he smiles again.

"I'll make you First Lady of Panem one day. It'll fit better for your current nickname" you roll your eyes.

"What will we do with that much power?" He stares deeply into your eyes. You changed his hair, and he hoped he could still see the scar on your face. But it was gone. Just like the girl he met two years ago. So was the boy he was. But it was okay. Because he'd make you be like him. And nothing would matter more than you and him.

"Everything, dear" you smile. And feeling like teenagers again, both lean at the same time to kiss. Like it was the first time.

"Can I?…" he asks on your lips. You nod, hugging from his neck.

He kisses you finally. Soft, slow but demanding.

And you remember you made it. Your husband would have the power, but you just won control.

And for the next two weeks, during summer break, Coriolanus and you spent your days in District 1. Spending the days eating in the best restaurants, visiting museums, and swimming in private pools. Spending the nights exploring each other for the first time. He marked you his and you marked him yours. Watching the moon and forgetting about the university, moving into a new house, letting the past die.

Maybe the memory of Lucy Gray Baird would haunt Coriolanus for the rest of his life, but you were going to be there to turn it into haze. And maybe you would never forget the pain of losing thanks to him, but he would paint your days golden. He would be a good husband who would make it up each day.

…

The first day of your second year of University started differently. Coriolanus refused to learn to drive and refused to let you do it. But you convinced him it was okay.

You left home together. And arrived together on campus. Went through the stairs holding hands.

"Look, it's The Capitol's trendiest couple" Persephone, an old classmate from the Academy but also a new friend said. Festus, Clemmie, and other new friends were there, laughing and making fun of you and Coriolanus.

And you blushed. Abruptly stopping your steps. Your husband turned to see you.

"Everything is fine?" You nod, smiling.

"I just… This is exactly how I wanted to begin University last year" It made his heart clench.

"Only… he's missing it" Like a needle taking him aback, Coriolanus knew what you meant.

"He'd hate what we have become though" It's bad, but you laugh.

"You're right, dear" you agree with your husband.

"But happy for us…" he adds, and you nod. Grabbing his arm to finally enter the building.

Soon, two peacekeepers call you to Gaul's office, just like last year. She's not there. But there's a letter on her desk.

You exchange looks with Coriolanus. He tilts his head and follows you to the desk. Carefully, he grabs the envelope and opens it.

Students, as the summer ends, I hope you had a pleasant summer.

Congratulations on your success after the games, Mr and Mrs. Snow.

Given the circumstances of Dean Highbottom's death last year, I won't be able to begin with the preparation for the 12th Hunger Games.

I believe you two have gained enough knowledge to start without me.

You'll find materials in the backroom of my principal laboratory. You'll find it quite interesting.

Make me proud and you two will be the first and automatic option to replace me in a couple of years.

And keep in mind what I always ask. What are the games for?

Dr. Volumnia Gaul

No words are exchanged after reading the letter. Coriolanus only nods to you, agreeing to the message.

So you go to the principal laboratory. It's clean and the sound of different animals is the only sound inside.

There are two long tables, and it's obvious, that there are at least six corpses covered in white blankets.

When you pull away the blanket, you gasp in shock.

The corpses that were once humans now seemed a mix of animals.

Until you see what it is.

"Coryo. These are the corpses of the death tributes" You are shocked. He was also surprised.

"The mutt bite… transformed them?" Slowly, you nod. He hands you some gloves and a face mask

"Every year I end up creating something more vile" you admit touching the slimy skin of the corpses, turning dark and the human face blemished. Only a girl from District 4 had won Mags. A lot of people loved her. But the cheer wasn't very loud, thank you and your marriage.

"These were also the people who probably agreed on the bombs. They hate us, y/n" he's right.

"They need a yearly reminder that war is over. That we won and that you won't give up" You turn to face him. There's the anger and hate you disliked about him. But now you have plenty of reasons to agree with him.

"They deserve this."

"You're right"

He sees you making some tests to study the altered DNA and smiles. He was so fucked up.

"Don't stare, silly. Come here and help me. There's a lot to do" you say playfully. So he smirks mockingly and starts helping you.

"Maybe we could have some resting after this" he suggests, you laugh.

"Here? With deformed corpses? I don't think so, dear"

"Not here. We can go to the private ladies' room." Sometimes you made fun of him for having the kind of a pervert teenager. Ever since you decided to make up with him, Coriolanus and you were the biggest switching couple in the history of sex.

"Oh, my goodness. Can you behave for once, Mr. Snow?" You ignore him, sealing some glass containers with pieces of skin, fluids, and more from the corpses.

"You know what? Forget it. We haven't done it in the upper living room, or the library. Yeah, I can wait." Brushing past him, you laugh.

"I swear I will turn you into a mutt if you don't shut up, Coryo" both of you laugh. And Coriolanus feels happy. He thinks he has your back. He finally won.

He won the money, the fame, and the power was growing. And he won the girl.

…

It was already dark when you were done doing the practices at the University. Coriolanus helps you with your coat and bag as you make your way to the car.

"After you, dear" he indicates that you should sit first. So you do, and after you start the car, you turn to see him.

He has rebellious hair hanging on his forehead. He lets you brush his hair and smiles, relaxing after a long day.

There's time to catch your lips and kiss you deeply. Hands on your hips as usual and yours tangled in his hair. Even after brushing it.

"Do you think she'll notice?" He asks agitated, breathing unevenly. You giggle, fixing your dark purple lipstick through the mirror of the car.

"She gave us six bodies, but seven doesn't make much difference. Right?" He smiles too, even giggling a bit.

"I can't wait to take a shower," he admits.

"I can't wait for you to take me to bed after shower" Before you make it outside of campus, he kisses you again, squeezing your inner thigh, almost making you moan.

"Me neither…"

___________________________

Taglist: @sarnbarnes @user0440822 @poppyflower-22 @h-l-vlovesvintage @zxrcle @gloryekaterina @dakotali @especiallythewomenandthechildren @mymadokamagica @drvnkn-dazed

In my head… this was the wedding dress<3

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

ASTROLOGY EDITION - THE SENSUAL APPEAL OF THE NAKSHATRAS

Hey, so I've been more focused on the nakshatras lately.. and love getting into how sensual, flirtatious, raw and powerful some of the nakshatras could be. I may start this off with just the nakshatras itself, focusing on the sign and its energy as opposed to the planets in each of these naks. So yeah. Lets get into it ;)

So first is up, Hasta. There the ones who really inspired me to do this so here we go.

Hasta - Delicate. Refined. Opened Hearts. Very sensual beings who know how to ease you into to their souls. They have a replenishing auras that could fulfill the desires of another. Oop, did I say that? They are indeed the temptress, the ones that will make you fall in love with, as they know you will never get anything from the in return. Having been hurt in the past, they usually carry themselves with a tight armor, only this time they know they wont have to... Because someone will always take the bait ;)

Hastas are truly amazing at crafting their hearts into the desires that they want. So much so, they'll utilize their sex appeal in order to get what they want. Very smart, coi and productive... Their like the jaguar you dont see coming. They always get what they want, because others are more than likely to give to the hastanian babe whenever they please.

Rohini - Ooooooh! They are sooo seductive. They have a quiet temper that is aroused when the right soul meets into their arms. They're only lovers for the plot. If it gets too deep and on the wrong foot then their outta here. Sorry busta!If you don't give it to them the right way, then they won't be here for long. They are only here for one purpose, and that is to fulfill their desires in more ways than one. Like their hasta friends, they know how to go for what they want, and they'll get it by any means necessary.

There temptress powers they carry can attract an audience if they let it. There touch can last for hours, penetrating into the skin like magic. They are the doorway to salvation. Pleasure is their profound language. It is a blessing and a curse to be this type of delight. A special occasion, they keep anyone anyway who is not deserving of their love.

Anuradha - I feel like this one deserves a round of applause ONLY because they do not share these gifts so easily. The people could want more but that isn't enough. Once they get a hold of your tempting magic people will definitely try and take you to the pits of hell. So its kept in a jar, locked away for a while until the anuradha babe is ready to go for the kill. When she wants it, she will. And when mama's hungry, shes gonna eat ;) Siren-like eyes that can penetrate into your soul. It can spook you ;) But all the Anuradha wants is to entice, it is how she gets what she desires. She has a flow that is naturally pulling like the Jyestha, we don't know what it is but its powerful, convincing, and its rare. The anuradha is the type to pull yu in, to the point that when she catches you in her spell.. she will eat you alive. Its better to stay away if you dont want to be bit, but her allure is just so damn powerful. It'll have you begging for more.

Krittikas - Their raw sexuality will pour into your skin, and before you know it.. they've already gotten you into their mini web. Darling.. the ones who where this nakshatra on their sleeves use every bit of their power to seduce the right one.. sometimes it catches others too. There striking presence keeps the others wondering where have they been all of their life. The one who moves to the beat of their own drum, tameless. It is why so many try to focus on wooing you in order to make you into what THEY want you to be.. and you beat em at their game every time. The seductive prowess they carry show a reflective force from the moon down to the sun, with its rays being so powerful it has everyone looking at them.. waiting to explore what is deep inside the krittika, only to be found later in their dungeon. Taking their souls, and never to be heard of again.

Shravana - They have a very powerful aura that pushes the narrative about themselves. They have the gift that keeps on giving. They know what to do with their seduction, its the one that gets them the highest bidder! What shapes you, is the power of the mind, the soul and the spirit. So they do themselves the diligence to create from within, and not without. They are hungry to learn more about their presence as their gifts connect to the souls of thousands.. What I mean is that these babes have a gift of opening up the godlike force that many try to emulate.. but many can't do. There seductive prowess inspires thousands to watch them as they watch to the shravana native, craving for their affection.. As they can be so very giving, but with a price. It all comes down to them wanting to be at the top, and they'll whatever they can to get it. It comes with a sense of ease, and they'll choose their favorite worshiper to teach ;)

Mula - HOT HOT HOT!!!!!! They don't even know how deep this goes.. but they penetrate into your skin with no effort. There gift is in spiking you with their mind, and leading you in with their heart.. They know how to entice you into doing for them and fitting to their needs.. You wont even blink an eye and yet wont even care. You'll just be glad to be in their presence is all. They have a special aura that most find pretty enchanting, and their souls spark a conversation one what makes them so unique.. because most people are mystified by them and begin to take notes.. but they will never know what that is to be exact. Which is what makes their seductive prowess just that damn good. It exists for them and them alone.. if they decide to share this with you consider yourself LUCKY.. Because they like you more than the rest, and who they are and how they carry themselves is a gift you when they want to share it.. Whew.. they'll really touch you in ways you won't forget.

I will post on the rest of them soon. Let me know in the comments how you feel about the nakshatras !!

[ew-selfish-art]

DP x DC AU: Letters and Paper goods are easy to store, and therefore, easy to hide. Danny has drama to monger though.

Tim Drake becomes a ward of Bruce Wayne at the same time the Drake Corporation is crumbling, and his father's health is declining. Dana, his father's physical therapist turned new wife, isn't optimistic these days, and Tim can read the writing on the wall.

Times have changed and Bruce and Dick are treating him with kid gloves. Jason Todd is alive again, been there suffered that. Young Just-Us has proven yet again to be his true family... But Bruce 'welcomes' him home the second the fake uncle is sniffed out.

So, Tim rationalizes, If Drake Corp is going down, then so shall the reason he spent his childhood abandoned. The many, many archeology digs his parents left him for over the years and their many, many stolen historical pieces. Tim is ready and able to get rid of them all.

He first returns the artifacts that have obvious origins to the people with whom they belong. Then it starts to get a little hazy as to where each item stolen is from. The paper goods are the hardest to place.

Years later, Tim has almost completely emptied his parent's old home of their stolen goods. By now, he runs a fortune 500 company and is working as Red Robin. Going through the last of the archives means going through the very last objects his parents ever preferred over his company, and he can't wait to be rid of them.

A glowing green envelope however... this one he feels compelled to keep. He hadn't known it back when he started this project- but somehow his Parents had found objects drenched in the essence of the Lazarus Pits. And it wasn't just one letter, it was dozens and dozens.

Tim Drake knew it would be risky to move them, but he needed to get these letters to an ex-league member to understand what the language of the dead was trying to proclaim.

_____

Danny hates a fetch quest but apparently Ghost Writer is having a bad day. It starts with Danny running by the guys library to have a chat when all of a sudden, the question of certain... ghost relations... came up. Danny is always more than thrilled to hear about how the various ancient-as-in-old ghosts interacted with the Ancients-as-in-yikes ghosts.

Ghost Writer finally admitted to the monarch in training that if he wanted to know so badly, that he could track down Clockworks old letters. They'd been scattered well before Ghost Writer could properly work on the ghost archives (read: was still alive), and it wasn't until he'd long worked on the library that such affairs were noted as missing.

The potential for gossip was just too good! A call home to Sam, Tuck and Jazz to let them know he was on an adventure, and then Danny flew off with little more than some hints by GW and an annoyed nod of cryptic agreement by CW.

Danny goes about wondering Gotham as himself, not yet seeing the need to be Phantom, when he runs into the very guy he was looking for.

"Hey- you don't happen to have a shit ton of letters written in the language of the dead do you?" Danny smiles as innocently as possible as he watches all seven stages of grief play out on the guy's face. Then something changes and Danny can tell that this guy is like, scary competent.

"I do, however, I was double crossed and a shit ton of assassins are on their way to try and take them."

"Uh... Bummer for them I guess? I'll just take them and go- I don't even really need to keep them if you want em back-"

"Assassins. They won't exactly leave empty handed."

"Huh. Well... Wanna come with? These are supposed to have some pretty juicy drama in them." Danny awkwardly places a hand on the back of his neck.

A knife being thrown in their direction was enough to get this guy to make a decision.

"Let's go spill some tea then."

Danny grins as he pulls the guy through a rapidly drawn portal, ignoring the wide eyes he makes. Turns out his name is Tim, and walking him through afterlife drama is the best- how does he know so many dead assassins??? One of these letters is about a guy who took Tim's spleen??